


collecting stars

by timelessidyll



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lee Jihoon | Woozi & Min Yoongi | Suga Are Related, M/M, MORE BG SHIPS TO BE ADDED, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated T for swearing, WE GOT SOME VIOLENCE, but also probably, everyone from the tagged bands will show up, oops bambam and lisa are being shady, seokchan????, side hoseok/chan, side jeongcheol, side jjproject, side junhao, side seokshua, side verkwan - Freeform, side yoonmin, so it's, some OCs, that literally never get mentioned again lol, there might be violence later idk yet, they're brothers, um some ptsd???? i'll tag it in case it becomes more serious, yeontan makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelessidyll/pseuds/timelessidyll
Summary: Jihoon has traveled through more time periods than he can count. He’s gone to the past, to the future, to places he’s only ever dreamed of visiting, and places he would give an arm and a leg to never return to. Despite that, his heart yearns for something more. No matter where he’s gone or which time period he’s in, something’s missing. As he loses interest in the charm of time traveling, he wants an anchor to settle the wanderlust that courses through him. In 2021, he finds a timeless man dancing in a New York plaza, and he feels every unsettled emotion inside of him calm. The man dances like he’s a river, twisting and winding so fluidly that it’s almost like he’s a god walking amongst mortals. All it takes is a single dance, and Jihoon is trapped by the mysterious dancer’s allure.





	1. paradoxes

**Author's Note:**

> inspired partially by the pinwheel and lilili yabbay mvs, but also because i'm a hoe for time travel aus  
> tags will be added as the story continues! so far, i've only thought of a few scenes which i knew to already tag for, but more will come.  
> i don't have a beta, so if you catch weird things i could fix, please let me know!

Jihoon sighed as he leaned back to avoid yet another fist that had swung too close to him. Why he thought it had been a good idea to get drunk in a 1568 English tavern was beyond him. It might have had to do with the fact that the ever-growing hole in his heart was making him lethargic. ‘Doesn’t matter now,’ he thought. An outward grimace appeared on his face as the stench hit him. ‘This isn’t the place either.’ Exhaling, he got up from his seat, slapped down a gold coin worth more than the whole tavern, and slipped out, the inhabitants none the wiser.

He shifted inside his doublet, annoyed by the boning that forced the fabric to keep its shape. Although already a slim man by nature and, to Joshua's chagrin, lack of nutrition, it was like the doublet was trying to force him into the thickness of a stick. When he finally felt that he wouldn’t puncture his stomach, Jihoon snuck a pocket watch, the kind with a long, thin chain and large clock face, out of the pocket hidden on the inside of his jerkin and flipped it open. He paid little mind to the surrounding men who stared at the watch in awe, having seen the time watch in this form enough times to lose interest in the way the gilded gold shone in the light and the inlaid gems on the clock face glittered. Instead, he focused on the information that was scrolling across the face, trying to determine when he should time his next jump. 1568 was getting boring, he told himself in an attempt to justify why he was already jumping so soon after his last one. He tried to ignore how his heart skipped a beat at the thought of yet another empty hotel room to stay in.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called after him, and he knew it wasn't anyone from the current time period because of the language they used. And when he turned around, he wasn’t surprised that it was Seungkwan running towards him. Running in the loosest sense of the word, because he looked like he was trying his hardest not to trip on the flat shoes he had to wear as part of the era clothing, and that resulted in him looking more like he was speedily hopping along. It was almost enough to make Jihoon crack a smile. It was too bad that the expression on his friend’s face discouraged that. He tucked his watch back into its hidden pocket as his friend approached.

“TRM called in. HQ wants you back immediately,” he reports, not even bothering with a greeting. He bent his knees a little, panting since the restrictive clothing made it difficult to breathe, and Jihoon frowns.

“They ordered me to take a break, and not even a day in they decide to call me back.” The deadpanning expression on the agent’s face made it clear his displeasure with the bipolar nature of his superiors. “There wasn’t anyone else who could’ve handled whatever disturbance this is?” Seungkwan winced at the term he used.

“That’s the problem. It’s not a disturbance. They’ve found a paradox in the 1800s. This is big, Woozi, and they need you immediately.”

“I’ve told you not to use my call name,” he griped, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to fight off an oncoming headache. The only thing that could’ve made his day worse had made itself known; of course, a rogue traveler had caused a paradox. “Have you found a jump time?”

“Yeah, in about two minutes, we can choose a jump point anywhere.” If there was one thing Jihoon was thankful for, it was that beneath his somewhat stubborn personality and constant roasting, Seungkwan had an intelligence he put to good use.

“Great, let’s find an alley or something. The fewer people we have to fool into believing they’re hallucinating, the better.” He ignored the varied stares they got from the people of the era. Being ogled at–in curiosity, disgust, and even suspicion–wasn’t a new experience to him, but he knew Seungkwan, the poor techie, would feel even more uncomfortable than he already was if he noticed them as well. He grabbed his arm, earning gasps from the surrounding people, and dragged him into the nearest alley. “Is there a certain year they want me in?”

“No,” Seungkwan muttered, pulling out his tablet from underneath his jerkin to input some calculations. “But you know how retro Jeonghan is. He loves the revival of the pastel trend from the 1950s and 1980s in the early American 2000s, so I can give you a 95% guarantee that he wants us somewhere in that period, even if he hasn’t said so.”

“Of course he wants us in that time period,” Jihoon groaned. The only redeeming quality of early 2000s America was Barack Obama’s consecutive terms of presidency. Pulling his watch out once again, he asks, “How’s the jump time looking?”

“You’re good to go whenever you want.” After being given the green light by the best technician at CRT, Jihoon grabbed Seungkwan’s arm once again and twisted the stem of the watch. The hands of the clock began to speed up, getting faster and faster until they were a blurry wheel on the dial. Above the hands, a holographic clock displayed the fast-forwarding years. As soon as his eyes registered 20XX, Jihoon pressed the stem in to stop the hands. They were ripped out of the year 1568, the sensation of being displaced in time and space with no time period to belong in a familiar comfort. They didn’t see the passing of time, standing in their own moving bubble of space filled with nothing.

As suddenly as they began, they were thrown back into time, feet jarring against hard concrete. Seungkwan stumbled beside him cursing, unused to the period reentries of the watches, but Jihoon keeps himself composed. The part about Brooklyn that he loved the most was how busy it always was. The crowd went about its day, paying little attention to the others around them. It meant that no one noticed two men materialize out of nowhere in their midst. Ignoring Seungkwan’s complaints about how queasy the trip had made him, Jihoon pulled him out of the crowd so that they wouldn’t get swept away from the building they were in front of. Above the imposing glass doors, polished pale blue letters spelled out “CRT: Center of Respiratory Treatment.” It was a well-crafted and upheld hoax, and Jihoon felt the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it. If only his job was that simple.

“Alright, let’s go, you whiny baby. Now I know why you’re not out in the field.” Seungkwan shot him a pouty scowl.

“You didn’t have to mention it!” He argued as they entered the building, running into another person when he motioned Jihoon to turn right with him. Seungkwan hit his nose against the man’s chest, and he would’ve fallen if the man hadn’t reached out to grab his arms and bring him back to a standing position.

“Woah, you alright Kwanie?” Seungkwan looked up, blinked a few times when he realized who it was, and then his face heated up. He stiffened immensely and stuttered when he responded.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine Hansolie. Um, sorry for running into you.” If Jihoon was any more of an asshole, he would have laughed at his friend’s misery; but since he was a good man and didn’t want karma to bite him later, he settled for rolling his eyes.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it Kwanie.” Jihoon swore he saw Seungkwan melt right on the spot. To save him from any further embarrassment, he grabbed the lovestruck fool’s arm, prying it gently out of Hansol's hold.

“Sorry, Hansol, we have to get going. Jeonghan and Seungcheol called me in, and Seungkwan’s gotta take me there. About time he put his genius to use,” he added, poking at him with his other hand. Seungkwan pouted again, narrowing his eyes at the offender.

“Sorry Hansolie, someone’s a little too impatient. I’ll see you later?” It was like the prospect of meeting Hansol again put stars in his eyes, and once again Jihoon was hit with the need to gag. He kept it to himself.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely see you later.” With a wink and smile, Hansol headed in the opposite direction. Seungkwan stared at him longingly and Jihoon had to kick him to get his attention.

“Come on, I don’t want the reason I’m late to be because you can’t keep your thirst sated.” Seungkwan sputtered in response but started walking nonetheless. “Don’t even try to lie to me, Seungkwan, I swear I could see hearts in your eyes.”

“Having heart eyes for someone and being thirsty for them are two different things, Jihoon. Very different,” he emphasizes, leading the agent down a side corridor towards the conference rooms. As he walks, he pulls out his tablet, probably to scroll through some updates from the lab.

“Ah, so you don’t deny that you like him?” It was fun, teasing his friend like this. But he couldn’t forget that the meeting he was headed to was a very serious matter. “We’re changing out of these outfits, right?” Seungkwan stopped abruptly, glancing down at his body and groaning.

“You mean I walked into Hansol looking like I walked out of the Renaissance?”

“To be fair, you did get the cultural period right.”

“Ah, well thank goodness for that. Forget the fact that I embarrassed myself, at least my historical accuracy is on point.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he turned sharply on his heel to head towards the changing rooms. Jihoon followed behind him, listening with increasing glee to the other’s grumbling.

When they entered the changing rooms, Jihoon stopped to examine its features. He’d never seen the older facilities of the CRT, choosing to have his briefings take place in a more futuristic setting. Everything he saw was new to him. To his right, the whole wall had been turned into a closet, a variety of outfits sectioned off. He saw black-tie and casual sections, even some medieval armor, before he scanned the rest of the room. In front of him, three mirrors were angled to allow the person to view the whole outfit, and to his left, stalls were lined up to actually change into. Seungkwan immediately veered towards the more casual clothes in the wardrobe. Jihoon picked a black turtleneck and red plaid blazer. There weren't many colors for pants and shoes, so he picked black for both.

In the stall, he struggled to get the tight and conforming Renaissance clothing off, almost gasping in relief when the doublet was removed. Rubbing at the red marks left on his skin, he threw the offending article off to the side and slipped the more comfortable turtleneck over his head. It felt a little big, but the sleeves fit, so he shrugged to himself and put on the rest of the clothes he picked.

When he walked out, Seungkwan was standing in front of the mirror, twisting his body to see how the outfit he had chosen looked on him. He wore a soft, pink sweater that made him seem more innocent than he actually was and skinny jeans paired with casual white shoes.

He catches an image of himself too. The blazer brings out his hair, and he notices how the dyed red is beginning to fade, showing his natural black hair. It’s not enough to make him want to re-dye it, and besides, he just got it cut–maybe– and the hair at his neck can’t be deemed a mullet yet. He doesn’t want to bother with something so trivial. The pants fall short a little above the shoes, but he doesn’t care enough to go get a new pair. It looks kind of intentional, anyways, so let people think he knows his fashion when in reality he was too lazy to do anything about it.

“Well, aren’t you looking fresh and dapper?” Seungkwan chirps. It’s like he was the voice actor for those animated birds in Disney films, Jihoon thinks to himself, the ancient ones from when the first movies came out. Then he remembers that he’s in 2021 and not 2105, and the first princess movie from Disney wasn’t even that old yet. Even after all these years as an agent, it’s easy for him to forgot what year he was from. It was scary, in a way, how he could let go of the past–his past, the memories he made before he was whisked away by the government for a program he had never heard of before. He realized Seungkwan was still in front of him, now looking the tiniest bit concerned about Jihoon’s unresponsiveness. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was admiring myself. I do look sharp, don’t I?” He’s not one for theatrics, but the mirror made you want to twirl in place and show off your clothes. It was a good thing he was a professional. “Shouldn’t we be going by now? We’re definitely late at this point.” Seungkwan hummed to himself, giving his figure a last appreciative glance before heading for the door.

“Yeah, we can go now.” The technician leads him out, taking him down a separate set of halls not too far from the changing rooms. When they reach a locked door, Seungkwan goes through the painstaking process of authorizing himself. First came a keypad with a code that Jihoon knew was always changing, then a fingerprint scan for a DNA code, and finally a retinal scan, which must have been damaging his eyes. Only after all that had been completed did the mechanized voice say “authorization complete” and allow them to walk through.

It made sense, why they had to add so many security measures. They were posing as a research facility and thus had to hire actual scientists to keep up the charade. They couldn’t risk being discovered, so they had to do this. Jihoon also realized it was part of the reason why Seungkwan was sent to get him. He was registered in the database, but the code was only given to permanent residents of the period.

The hall they were walking through now was more comfortable than the sterile halls of the research part of the building. There was an actual carpet under his feet, albeit a little hard, and the walls were a warm beige. Many doors lined the hall, leading to various rooms that were each set up a little differently depending on the meeting they wanted to hold. They entered the only room that was closed and saw that almost every seat had been filled up. Jihoon was right in thinking that they were definitely late.

“Sorry for the delay, we were coming back from 1568,” Jihoon explains casually, taking a seat next to Yoongi, an analyst from TRM. The man gave him a respectful nod in greeting that Jihoon returned, letting himself focus on Jeonghan, the director of CRT, standing at the front of the room.

“Thank you for joining us, Woozi, Seungkwan.” Jihoon grimaced when his call name got used again, causing Yoongi to snort beside him. “We can finally start addressing this pressing matter.”

“Jeonghan, it’s alright,” Seungcheol says beside him, resting a careful hand on top of Jeonghan’s on the table. “All we’re doing is explaining the situation.” He takes the time that Seungcheol is spending to calm Jeonghan down to take a look at the other members in the room. Unsurprisingly, Namjoon is there, from TRM, along with Mark, but what did surprise him was seeing Hansol. He hadn’t expected for him to be part of the meeting, especially since his role was to keep the various facilities up to date on new regulations. He didn’t have to look at Seungkwan to know his friend was paying almost no attention to Jeonghan in favor of staring at Hansol. From CRT, the other people were Taehyung and Jaebum. He doesn’t know either of them that well since he rarely stops by HQ to see Jaebum, and Taehyung is another agent like him. His analysis of why these people had been chosen was cut short by Jeonghan speaking again.

“The TRM analysts have detected paradoxes in their systems, contradictory events to what was previously in the databases. We’re worried about what the rogue traveler is trying to achieve since the paradox he caused is pretty mild.”

“What exactly did he do?” Taehyung interrupts, blank-faced except for the slight downturn of his lips.

“He messed with the invention of the light bulb is what he did,” Yoongi says beside him, voice rough, so Jihoon guessed that he’d been sleeping a little while before. “It wasn’t enough to ruin it, but there was a set back of about two years for the initial discovery.”

“So he’s broken a law, and that’s about it?” This time it’s Jaebum who speaks, looking a bit confused. “So why are we all us here? We don’t need that many people for a simple operation like this.” Seungcheol answers him, standing up to join Jeonghan in front of the whiteboard.

“You’re right, but there’s a complication.” He pauses to turn on the projector that his laptop was connected to. A photocopied report appeared on the board, and even before Seungcheol could explain what his department had found, Seungkwan spoke up.

“They did that to cover up their other infractions. You found other paradoxes too, didn’t you?” He asks, squinting at the projection from where he sat at the back of the room between Taehyung and Mark. Seungcheol remains unfazed by Seungkwan’s perception, but Jihoon doesn’t miss Hansol's awed look directed at the technician.

“That’s right, Seungkwan. That’s why I brought Namjoon, as our criminologist.” He motions to Namjoon to take over the presentation. Rather than stand up by the projector, he chooses to stay seated and doesn’t even glance at his displayed report.

“It’s possible that we are only looking for one man because there is no guarantee that he didn’t travel to each of these events consecutively. There’s also the chance that these are two separate incidents that happened to coincide. But it’s more likely that we have an organized group of people in question.” He stops to make sure everyone is following along, interlacing his fingers and resting his chin on it. “The next few slides will hold some readings that Yoongi and Hansol analyzed for discrepancies. Mark made notes about what the significance of each event is.” As he said all of this, Seungcheol was clicking through the slides, showing more photocopied charts of spikes in energy from suspected period arrivals and penned notes from Mark.

“A lot of these events are small as far as the scale for inventions goes. None of them on their own will significantly affect our daily life,” Mark explains, leaning back in his chair. “But they’re targeting different events that are all related. The light bulb was the earliest event they went after, but then they altered the invention of the pen, and after that, it was the telephone. These are all everyday items that wouldn’t matter much because multiple people have had similar ideas for them, but the problem is that they might screw up an event so much that the inventor gives up. They’ll publish journals claiming how impossible the task is, and then the invention will be delayed to the point that the present day will be affected. This group is experimenting with how hard they need to push those boundaries, and it’s crucial that we stop them before something irreversible happens.”

“So how do you plan on doing that?” It’s Jihoon who finally asks the question that sat burning in everyone’s mind. “It’s great we know what the issue is, but how are we going to catch them? At this point, we have a disconnected line of ideas, trails that lead to nowhere. We can’t possibly expect to operate a manhunt mission with such minimal clues.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his pale pink hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

“We know,” he says, a little muffled since his hand had come to rest on his mouth. “That’s why you and Taehyung are here.” The two agents make eye contact and share mutual looks of confusion. “We want you to travel to just before the event. Don’t try to stop them, just let them do it.”

“This is making my brain hurt,” Taehyung groans, letting his face fall into his hands. Jihoon silently agreed with him, trying desperately to figure out the theoretic behind time traveling to a paradoxical event.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Hansol assures them. “You’re thinking of this like we’re in parallel universes. Instead, they’re more like perpendicular. When you time travel, you’re entering the point where those two universes branch off, and by fixing it, you erase the other universe from existing.”

“So we have to go back to right before the event,” Jihoon repeats, and Jeonghan nods to confirm his thoughts. “And then we need to watch them? So that we can figure out who they are?”

“They’ll be careful because they don’t want anyone to think something’s out of place, but yes. You two are going on an intelligence mission because we need more details to work off of.”

“But who’s taking the third event?” Jihoon asks again, dreading having to jump twice in a row. The time periods were too different, and if he had to take two missions, he would have to make four total jumps because he would have to change his outfits. It wasn’t thrilling anymore, to jump through time, but more of a hassle. He feels heavier thinking about a new mission.

“I am,” Jeonghan says, ignoring the surprised looks of his colleagues. “Stop looking at me like that, I’m not that old. I’ve only been out of the field for a year, I can handle a simple intelligence mission.”

“We can’t ask Joshua to do it, unfortunately,” Seungcheol apologizes with a weak smile. “He’s finally got a week off with Seokmin and we don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Oh, so it’s fine if I get called off break, but Joshua's too precious for that, isn’t he?” Jihoon deadpans, glaring at both of the department heads. “Fine, whatever. I call the telephone,” he announces, pushing the chair back so he could get up.

“Jaebum,” Jeonghan calls, “could you give us an estimate of when we should each enter our periods? And Seungkwan, please prepare for the information we’ll bring back. We need to compile some profiles.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Seungkwan has the audacity to wink, fully confident in himself.

“Ah, what a cheeky bastard,” Jaebum mutters, laughing when Seungkwan tries to swat him. “I can do you one better, Jeonghan. I have exact dates and timings. We all know how impatient Jihoon is.” The smirk on Jaebum’s face irritates Jihoon, and he glares at him. In a friendly manner, of course, because at the Containment of Rogue Travellers, they’re all family.

“Thank you, everyone, you can go now. Please return by 4:30.” Jeonghan dismisses the group, and Jihoon pulls out his pocket watch to see that the time is still 1:27. Looking up again, he notices that Yoongi had his eyes closed. He peers closer at his brother, wondering if he could get away with drawing a dick on his face. It would be like old times. Except Yoongi seems to have some sort of Jihoon detector, because the moment he brings his pen close to the other’s cheek, his eyes crack open and immediately slide over to him.

“Try me, shithead,” Is all he grumbles, challenging Jihoon with slitted eyes. The agent smiles and darts in to draw a single dark line down Yoongi’s cheek. The analyst lunges forward, trying to grab Jihoon’s blazer, but he sprints away, listening to Yoongi’s curses fade as he gets further away. Namjoon and Mark are laughing and Jihoon grins for a few seconds before he glances back to see no one behind him and slows down. Hansol had followed Seungkwan out on the pretenses of helping him with the profiles, but Jihoon also knew he was whipped, courtesy of Wonwoo. Seungcheol and Jeonghan were busy talking about “business,” and Jisoo and Seokmin were out of the question too. That left Mingyu and Wonwoo, and he wasn’t sure if either of them were free.

He exited the building, looking around to see where he could go. He still had about two hours before he had to come back and actually prepare for the mission, so sightseeing what the Brooklyn area had to offer sounded like a good plan. The crowd seemed to move in the general direction of Downtown. A quick Google search on a phone he found in his pocket told him to take the subway to get there in the least amount of time.

The problem was that he knew nothing about 2021 Brooklyn. It took him ten minutes to find the subway that was a block away from CRT. Then he had to wait another twenty minutes for the train to come to the station because he missed it while trying to make sense of the railway maps. When the train finally arrived, the carriages were hot and stuffy, and Jihoon couldn’t wait until he could get off at Borough Hall. It would be a bit of a walk, he already knew, but being 5’5” in a crowded train was not a good place to be. He shoved people out of the way unceremoniously, trusting the commuters to not be offended by his roughness. No one says a word, and he walks outside to breathe cooler air. Brooklyn is nice, he supposes, head upturned to stare at a sky framed by high-rises in every direction, but it’s not as great as Seungkwan always tell him it is.

For a government office, it’s very crowded. People are gathered in front of the steps, leaving a large semi-circle in front of the stairs leading up to the building. They’re all talking in hushed tones, something about waiting for a show to start, and Jihoon’s about to walk away. Until he hears the music, and the disconnected notes force his feet to stop and his ears to listen. He feels his heart changing beats to match the song’s bass, and even in the sharp lyrics, he hears the underlying nostalgia and longing. He can’t see them, but he’s sure there are dancers at the front performing, and he has the sudden urge to push through them to watch the choreography. Later, he wishes he hadn’t, because the first person he sees takes his literal breath away.

He’s beautiful, but that’s not enough to describe it. He flows through the dance like a twisting river, and his pale blond hair seemed to create a halo around his head. And his voice is like an angel’s, matching the pure white of his outfit, and Jihoon can imagine scores of music in his mind, created just for the unknown dancer. The choreography itself is fluid, staccato in response to sharp notes in the music, lethargic when it connects with a new verse. It’s high energy, and he fits in so well that sometimes Jihoon loses track of where he should focus. But he sees that flash of blond and there he would be, concentration pulling his eyebrows together and a smile on his face.

He tries to look at the three other members, but it’s hard when that one dancer keeps taking up all his attention. There’s a white blond, hair bleached to the point where it’s colorless, and looking at him makes his eyes hurt because everyone’s wearing the same outfit his angel is. He sees another man, this time with brown hair, golden highlights on the top layer, and the last one has bluish-gray dyed hair and seems younger than the rest, a childish youth to his face that hasn’t been stripped from him yet. Jihoon hopes it won’t be taken, that in time he will learn to shed it himself, and when he does the time will be right, not too early, not too late. It's something that he never had the option of keeping.

He’s losing track of his thoughts, and there’s a numbness to him now that hadn’t been there before he started watching. His eyes catch the dancer’s, and he smirks. Jihoon’s face fell slack, seeing the curve of the dancer’s lips turn up, who was well aware of the effect he was having on him. The song ended, the closing notes haunting the air, and before the dancer can get up from his final position, lying on the ground with a single arm reaching towards the sky, Jihoon is gone. He’s struggling to regulate his breathing, to force his heart to stop beating to an imaginary bass, and he still sees imprints of the dancer on the back of his eyes.

He’s not sure what this is. It feels like love, it might be, but he’s only ever seen the dancer once. ‘It was the dancing’, he tells himself, paying little attention to his surroundings, ‘it resonated with you.’ But he knows that’s not true. After four years of feeling listless, completing mission after mission because that’s all he had to do, there’s a strong urge inside of him that begs to go back to the angel he saw. Someone bumps into him, and Jihoon is broken out of his reverie. His head shoots up to try and find out where he is, anxious that he hasn’t gotten himself lost in an unknown city. There’s a sign that says “Fulton Mall” and points straight ahead. With no better option, he follows it, hoping to forget about the angel he had left at Borough Hall.


	2. reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon discovers some information, both useful and unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i took some liberties here, like with the café and the city of brooklyn, but eh. i got the chapter out. there are also updated tags!

The whole point of going to Fulton Mall was to forget about the weird, swirling warmth he was feeling, but Jihoon didn’t feel any improvement as he observed his surroundings. There was also the problem that he wasn’t processing anything he was seeing. Sometimes, he would catch a flash of pale blond hair in the crowd, or see something of the like in the reflection of a window. His head would whip around, trying to get a glimpse of the person he thought he saw, but his height meant he couldn’t see above anyone. His attention was elsewhere, and he couldn’t enjoy the stores he was walking through or the restaurants he would pass by. Somehow, a whole hour and a half passed by, filled with the same repeated motions, and Jihoon felt kind of bad that he had let his break go to waste like that. Who knew when he would be able to relax again, especially if this case was going to be a problematic one.

Defeated, both by the exhaustion of walking around the whole time as well as searching for a face he knew he wouldn’t find, Jihoon made his way to the subway station that was in the opposite direction of Borough Hall. There was a certain disappointment he knew would curl inside his heart if he went back that way and didn’t see the dancer. There was something about him that made him unforgettable to Jihoon, that made him feel the calmest he had since he and Yoongi played tag with each other in their tiny backyard.

The train that took him back to the station closest to CRT was much less crowded than the first one, a small miracle that Jihoon took to heart. He needed some space to clear his head, and it didn’t matter to him if that was in a room or in the open. His own reflection stared back at him from the windows he sat across from, and beyond that, he focused on the walls blurring past, occasionally lit up with color by graffiti art that disappeared before he could even get an idea of the creativity behind the creator’s mind.

The lights of the train were harsh, and they reminded him of the hospital he had staged being a doctor in for a particular mission. His eyes almost fell shut, weighed down by the memory he had pulled back to the surface of his mind. He drowned it again, tied a boulder to it this time so that it wouldn’t come back up. He opened his eyes to look at the words that scrolled across the screen above the windows, and he stood up when he saw that his stop was next. The underground subway station wasn’t stifling, but it made him think too much. He doesn’t want to forget, but he doesn’t want to remember either.

Sometimes, he feels like slapping Jeonghan for thinking that glass walls for the front of their building, the side that faced the rising sun every morning, was a good idea. Sometimes, even the warm sunlight that brightened the ground would irritate him. Sometimes, he felt like he was drowning himself every time he forced himself to repress the visions he would see again and again. Sometimes, he would dream.

He didn’t know of what, because whenever he woke up it would be in a cold sweat and confusion, but it left him shivering in the dark, waiting for the light to seep in so that he knew he was still alive. They had their first big fight about this mission. Yoongi didn’t like its implications; Jihoon didn’t care. In the end, his brother had been right, as always. Jihoon was afraid of both the dark and the light, and he didn’t know which was worse.

Jaebum was the one who greeted him when he walked in, leaning against one of the pillars that framed the entrance. He took a look at Jihoon’s tired eyes, seemed to understand that he needed a distraction, and took it upon himself to do so.

“I have your info with me. Jeonghan said that I should point you to the clothes you need for the time period and to set up your watch manually to put you right where you need to be. And he’s reminding both of you again that you shouldn’t interfere,” Jaebum lists off, leading Jihoon back to the changing room.

“I come back and not even three hours later I’m being sent out,” he replies drily, unamused by the situation but thankful nonetheless that Jaebum is trying. He looks over the report that Jaebum had put in his hands. “Thanks for the data, you do a good job.”

“Well I hope so, I’m the head of the department.” Jihoon’s head rises, surprised by that revelation.

“I didn’t know that. When were you promoted?”

“Two months ago? Anyways, I don’t blame you, because you have a different job and we’re not close either.” They enter the changing room, and Jaebum points to him the clothing he would need to wear for his short excursion in 1849. When he emerges from the stall, he’s once again been forced into the tight clothing of olden fashion.

“Why can’t any of them be practical?” He growls, pulling on the cinched waist of his shirt. “They all wanna look like bean poles, but did they ever stop to think that we don’t?” Jaebum smirks, brushing his hair out of his face when strands of it come out from their slicked-back style.

“I’m sure they wanted you to suffer as much as they did.” He doesn’t want to laugh because he’s about to go on a mission and needs to prepare himself, but Jaebum’s humor is easy to fall into. A smile crosses his face anyways.

“Wouldn’t doubt it, the sadistic bastards. What time is it?” Jaebum checks his wristwatch, relaying that it was 4:13. “Nice, I’ll be back in plenty of time. Do you need to go somewhere to program the watch?”

“Nah, I can do it now. Can I see it?” The agent pulls it out of his coat pocket, handing it to Jaebum. He’s seen him and Jinyoung program the watches before, but it still amazes him how they manipulate the controls on the back. The concept of the watch is straightforward and easy to use daily, but the fine details are difficult to learn and apply. Jihoon himself, despite having this particular watch for four years, hadn’t figured out how to program the controls to take him to specific times.

The problem was the calculations and input. He never figured out how to change the holographic screen to allow him to put in exact times, and agents were always moving, so he couldn’t do the calculations in his head. Jaebum and Jinyoung had been transferred to the 2120s a few times to assist with fixing technical issues in the coding, so they were both very well-known and very smart. Jinyoung preferred not to be too involved with the physical applications of his knowledge, and Jaebum didn’t like the theoretical part; it made sense that they would work together to combine their strengths.

“When am I cleared to jump?”

“Taehyung jumped twenty-six minutes ago,” Jaebum said, staring at the pocket watch as he ran through the calculations in his head one more time. “So you have to wait four more minutes until you can jump as well. And you’ll have to go through the jump portal down in the lab.” Jihoon scowled at that.

“Fine, let’s go do that now.”

“Give me a moment, I gotta specify the time parameters. You’ll be jumping to the morning of March 10th, 1876, in a storefront across from Bell’s lab. Remember, you’re only looking for suspicious activity that might give us an idea of who the true offender is.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, we only have two minutes left.” They started towards the stairs that would take them to the basement, Jaebum leading the way. Again, a security protocol was run on the theorist to make sure that he had the authorization to be down there.

“Where do the normal scientists and researchers work? I haven’t seen any of them,” the agent asked curiously.

“They work on the fourth and fifth floors. The regular office workers are on the second and third floors, our labs are in the basement levels, and our regular desks are on the sixth floor.” Jihoon nodded along, impressed.

“You’ve got a pretty tight cover.” Even though he didn’t say anything in response, Jaebum’s satisfied smirk gave away his thoughts.

When they reached the basement level, there wasn’t much to see–in the beginning, at least. When Jihoon walked further down, the concrete that had made up the stairs, walls, and floor changed. The walls became a soft blue color, and the floors were a mosaic of blacks and whites. He had to appreciate the interior designer; whoever it was had good taste, pairing up neutral colors like this. Windows allowed him to observe them testing various types of devices and fabrics in the labs, most likely for more efficient travel. He didn’t know why they chose to do the experiments in this time period rather than in the future ones, but he also didn’t care. The government could call whatever shots they wanted; in the end, Jeonghan was his executive official, and everything else was meaningless.

“The jump point is in that room at the end,” Jaebum gestured towards a dark brown door so nondescript that it could have been mistaken for a supply closet. Jihoon approaches and opens it, coughing when he breathed in the stale air. There’s nothing inside to indicate that the room is used for anything. But even in the dim light that filtered into the room from the hall behind him, he could make out the shadow left behind by the portals.

“This is our jump portal?” He’s skeptical, even when he sees Jaebum nod to confirm him. Despite his misgivings, Jihoon pulled out his watch and pressed the stem in. As usual, a jump point appeared in front of him, but this time he noticed that the typical black emptiness he would see had an orange glow that was seeping through.

“Jaebum, what’s that light?” He asked in a whisper, afraid, for some reason, that by raising his voice something bad would happen.

“That might be a side effect of the programmed time,” Jaebum whispered back, furrowed eyebrows trying to make sense of the sight in front of him. “I’ll have to ask Jinyoung, but you don’t have a choice right now. You have to go through because both Jeonghan and Taehyung are done.

“Of course they are, those fucking overachievers,” Jihoon muttered, a rare curse word escaping while he walked towards the portal. He heard Jaebum give him one last farewell before he entered the portal.

It was a different feeling this time. He was ripped out of time as usual, but instead of watching the years travel backward faster than his eyes could register, he was thrown out of the emptiness of the limbo space and into 1876. For the first time since he became an official agent, Jihoon stumbled on the reentry, almost falling on the ground face first, and his only saving grace was that there was a lamppost in front of him.

“What the fuck,” he hissed and looked around warily to make sure no one was giving him odd looks. To his relief, none of the other people on the street noticed a man with bright red hair appear in their midst, nor his out of date profanity. He’d have to watch himself.

He was in front of a small shop, was his realization when he took a moment to examine his surroundings. It looked somewhat like a coffee shop, but far fancier, so Jihoon assumed that it must be for upper-class citizens to socialize in while they gossiped about the middle class that went about their day outside. It wouldn’t surprise him if he was right.

Jihoon was right. Upon entering the shop, because where else was he supposed to go, a hush descended on the elites inside. Like wolves eyeing prey, they took apart his appearance to see if he was worth their company. Undeterred, he took a seat at a table that allowed him a clear view of the lab across the street. He pulled his hat down further on his head, trying to inconspicuously hide his dyed hair, and relaxed when he heard the conversations around him start up again. They’d accepted him, as creepy as that sounded, and it would make Jihoon’s work easier. Bell had already become rather famous for his inventions, so there must be someone in this establishment who would have information for him. And whoever had tampered with the invention must be the talk of the town, because they wouldn’t be able to arrange a meeting with Bell without it becoming fodder in the gossip mill.

A lady tapped his shoulder, lips pulled into a teasing smile, not too eager but not too listless. She definitely had the act down to the letter, and he could appreciate a good actress. Jihoon gestured to the open seat across from him and she sat down.

“Thank you for allowing me to speak with you,” she said, her voice a lilting melody that softened around her vowels. It was soothing, unlike the typical haughty tone he heard from upper-class women, and he let himself return a small smile.

“It’s my pleasure to meet with a lady such as yourself,” he flirted back, tilting his head forward so that the shadows of his eyelashes were more prominent. He saw the lady flush, the barest, and he added a smirk to his features. “Would you be so generous as to give me a name to call you by?” She recomposed herself, bringing her shoulders together and breathing through her nose to calm down.

“You may call me Miss Lily. And you, sir?” Jihoon tried not to grimace at the incredible dullness of her name, but Miss Lily didn’t notice any change in his expression.

“Call me Mr. Lee, I insist.” She nodded, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. A waiter came to ask their orders, and Jihoon asked for a cup of Earl Grey tea for both him and Miss Lily.  
“Mr. Lee, how did you know I liked Earl Grey?”

“You seem as though you enjoy it, my lady. The slight pungency of the bergamot suits you well.” This time a dusty pink colored her skin, spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She ducked her head the slightest bit to cover her face with the brim of the elegant hat she wore, and if Jihoon didn’t need this information so badly, he would have left her at that very moment. A quick glance back outside revealed no new clues, as fruitless as the past twenty attempts.

“Miss Lily, if you don’t mind me asking, are you aware of who Alexander Graham Bell is? I’ve been meaning to inquire to him about a project of my own that I believe his expertise will be able to assist with.”

“Oh, yes, dear Bell has been a wonderful citizen of this town,” Miss Lily answered. “He’s been such a wonderful influence, and has made so many new devices for the nation.” He hoped she wouldn’t go off on a tangent just as he had started to learn something. “He’s been experimenting in his laboratory for weeks now.” The waiter came over and served them two cups of tea on a tray with a pitcher of milk and cubes of sugar.

“Thank you,” he said to the waiter hastily, turning back to Miss Lily. “Have there been any visitors for him?” He asked, adding milk to his cup and dropping in two cubes of sugar. Miss Lily didn’t answer right away, taking her time adding milk to her tea with no sugar. She took a sip before humming in satisfaction.

“There was one girl who gained an audience with him. She came two days ago and Bell let her in. They have an appointment at noon.” Jihoon looked at the sky, subtly so that Miss Lily didn’t notice it. They finished the rest of their tea in silence, and when Miss Lily stood up to leave, Jihoon didn’t stop her.

“This was pleasant Mr. Lee. I suppose this will be our only meeting.”

“You would suppose correctly,” he replied, eyes still focused on the lab across the street and the woman who had gone inside. “Thank you for the lovely conversation. I do hope the rest of the day treats you well.” He was up and out of the shop before she so much as blinked, checking to make sure the horse pulled carriages wouldn’t run him over if he speed-walked across the road. Satisfied that he wouldn’t die, he made it to the other side of the road and entered the laboratory, paying no heed to the strange looks that people gave him. There would be talk about the short man they saw dash into Alexander Graham Bell’s lab, red hair like a poppy floating because of the wind from his running. They wouldn’t see him again.

He made sure that the door didn’t slam shut behind him. Alerting his enemy would be counterproductive. The lab didn’t have any levels, so any noise would immediately be suspicious. He heard a conversation ahead and to the right, so he crept along the hall to try and see who was speaking. Before he even made it halfway down, the voices quietened. Instinctively, he opened the closest door to him, still being sure to not make a sound, and slipped inside. The door latched, only a tiny click being discernible in the otherwise quiet room.

There weren’t any windows on the door or the wall, so while people in the hall couldn’t see him, Jihoon couldn’t see them either. So he took the time to take a look inside the room he had entered. Three tables were lined up by their short ends in the middle, taking up almost the whole width of the room. Spread out across them were various trinkets and devices, along with hasty notes scrawled in journals and blueprints planned out on large pieces of paper. There wasn’t anything else in the room, and while he wanted to examine the blueprints, at that moment he heard someone walking down the hall. He pressed his ear against the door, hoping that it wasn’t too thick for sound to travel through.

The sound of footsteps went past him and continued on his left, and when he couldn’t hear them anymore, Jihoon cautiously opened the door to see where they had gone. At the end of the hall, he saw a woman turn right, into the hall the led to the exit. Jihoon followed her, ignoring the door he’d left open. He reached the turn as the woman opened the door and walked out, and he sprints to the door to make sure he can find her in the crowd. He catches the door before it shuts and he sees the decorative, navy blue hat he saw on her head bob above the crowd. He slipped into the crowd and began to weave his way through to get closer to her.

Jihoon noticed black hair. It wasn’t dyed, he could tell, and it’s curls and waves looked almost perfect. He snorted internally at that thought; he was starting to sound like a lovestruck fool, and it was laughable because he had never liked a girl in his entire life. Even after seeing them across all of the years, not a single one had caught his eye, and he was only paying so much attention to this one because she was his target.

He refocused, noticing that her she had a clutch in her hands, almost hidden by the ruffles of her gown. He smirked, confident in his earlier conviction that this was the person behind the paradox. She wasn’t looking around and searching for any snooping figures, so he grew more alert, double checking each person he passed to make sure they weren’t in league with his target. Eventually, she turned onto a side street, most likely searching for an empty location to jump from. From her side profile, he got a view of her softly sloped nose and shallow-set eyes. Her cheekbones weren’t sharp either, so he decided she at least had East Asian heritage. It was no wonder people started gossiping when a stranger like her showed up. He followed her at a distance to avoid suspicion and waited until she had entered the alley before turning as well.

“Lisa, I’m ready for the portal,” he heard her whisper into the clutch that she brought out, picking up her pace.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute to pull up the data,” was the scratchy reply, and the woman paused where she was and started to look around. Jihoon saw her steps slow and ducked behind a house front before she stopped, for once glad that he had such a short stature. He mentally marked off the name Lisa; it seemed she was their tech operative, so someone at TRM might recognize her.

“Hurry up, I’m getting a weird feeling.” Jihoon made himself smaller, stifling his curses as the outfit constricted him more and the bottom of his coat brushed the ground. The woman turned around again and Jihoon lifted his head to get a better view. She was staring intently at the wall beside her with the clutch held at chest level. Lisa’s voice crackled out of whatever device she had inside the clutch.

“You’re ready to go, Jennie. I’ve set the parameters for you, so all you have to do is jump through.” Jennie, since that seemed to be her name, offered a small smile at her clutch. Jihoon scoffed to himself; it wasn’t like Lisa could see her smile. She opened the clutch and seemed to press something inside of it. A portal opened in the wall in front of her, and heedless of whoever might be on the street, she jumped through it and disappeared. Jihoon’s jaw dropped, shocked that she had been so conspicuous. Quickly, he checked the reactions of the people nearby, but most of them were engrossed in their daily activities, whilst the others were tempted to pass it off to a hallucination. He sagged in relief; that meant that he didn’t have to clean anything up, and nothing was worse than having to handle a mess someone else made. He didn’t even have the option to leave it be since Jeonghan would have his head.

He ran away from the crowded main streets, searching for an area where he wouldn’t get noticed if he disappeared. He found it in the alleyway of a tavern, and he grimaced at the stench. It was always the taverns. Jihoon didn’t think he could remember a time when it hadn’t been one. He brought out the watch from his coat pocket, pressing down on the stem without programming it because he remembered Jaebum telling him that all he had to do to get back was press on it. He supposed the coding worked both ways. Giving one last glance around, Jihoon stepped through the gray-hued portal.

He materialized in the storage closet as Jaebum was beginning to leave. This time, he was prepared for the rough landing that came with pre-coded destinations and he managed to remain standing.

“Jaebum!” The theorist’s head whipped around, eyes wide.

“Jihoon? That was fast, I wasn’t expecting you to return so soon.”

“Yeah, well, time is like that,” he replies teasingly. “I’ve got some info, a few names, and a profile, so how about you bring me to Seungkwan and his lover boy?”

“Keep the flirting to a minimum, jeez,” he laughed, gesturing for the agent to follow him. “I’m happy and content with Jinyoung, thank you very much.”

“Like I’d be attracted to you. You’re too tall,” he scrunched his nose in playful anger, smiling all the while. They both laughed as they continued towards one of the smaller labs, filled with monitors and computers that had various codes and diagrams on them. Bustling around inside were Seungkwan and Hansol, cross-checking various facts that Taehyung and Jeonghan must have given them. Hansol was typing away on the keyboards at random computers, and from what Jihoon could see through the windows, he was muttering to himself too. Seungkwan was far more relaxed, glancing back and forth between his reports and tablet, sometimes leaving his desk to go check on a monitor. Both seemed focused on their tasks, which seemed a bit peculiar to him.

“Why aren’t they all over each other?” Jaebum asks, covering his mouth as if one of them would look up and somehow read his lips. “Seungkwan doesn’t stop talking about him ever. I thought he would love this.”

“That’s what I thought. It might be their professionalism?” But something about that explanation sounds off, even to himself, so they entered the lab, a little hesitant.

“Seungkwan, Hansol, I got some details. Do I need to fill out a report?” Seungkwan’s head shot up and he seemed to almost sigh in relief. Jihoon frowned, more concerned now than he was earlier.

“Yeah, come with me for a moment, Jihoon, I’ll grab you a sheet. Thank you so much, Jaebum!” Seungkwan shouted as he pulled Jihoon back out. The moment they were out of earshot and vision of the lab Seungkwan stopped and shoved his head in his hands.

“Hey, Seungkwan?” Nervous wouldn’t even begin to cover Jihoon’s emotions. “What’s wrong?”

“I messed up,” the technician whispered, and he sounded so broken that Jihoon wanted to wrap him up in a hug. “He kissed me, Jihoon, but I was so surprised that I couldn’t move, and I think he took that to mean I wasn’t interested.”

“Why didn’t you correct him?”

“Because he wouldn’t let me. He smiled sadly and said that he wouldn’t do it again if it made me uncomfortable, and when I tried to say something, he cut me off to say that I shouldn’t things if I only pity him. I don’t know what to do, Jihoon, I’m so lost.” Seungkwan’s voice started breaking close to the end of his explanation, like he was about to start crying. Gently pulling his hands away from his face, Jihoon made him look at his face.

“Ok, that’s kinda messed up, but it’ll be alright, okay? Let me fill out that form, and then I’ll be gone, and you have to force Hansol to listen to you, alright?” After getting a confirming nod, he continued. “Tell him that he can’t interrupt you until you’re done, and then, only then, let him respond to you. But you have to be more commanding. Got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Jihoon.” Seungkwan brushed away the tears that were forming in his eyes, pulling his tablet out of the pocket he shoved it in earlier and handing it to Jihoon. “Fill out the profile of the target and some names, because honestly, there isn’t much you could’ve gleaned from such a basic scout.” Jihoon snorted but took the tablet anyways.

“You’re right, there wasn’t.” It didn’t take long to fill out the report, and soon, Seungkwan was heading back to the lab to talk to Hansol, and Jihoon was walking out of the building. He didn’t know where, because he didn’t actually own a house anywhere, but he thought it would be better to wander the streets than sit inside that building for much longer. The memory of Jeonghan requesting another meeting to run over their findings came back to him, but he shrugged in indifference. He pulled out his phone to send a quick text to Jeonghan that he was too tired to be at the meeting, and on a whim, he texted Yoongi that he would be coming over. Might as well take advantage of being in a city where he knew the people.

Yoongi’s apartment complex wasn’t very far from CRT, probably because his brother was allergic to exerting unnecessary effort. The building was sleek and minimalistic, and completely out of place with the old brick buildings around it, but that only made it easier for Jihoon to find it. Checking his synced notes, he found the one he made with Yoongi’s apartment number on it and used the stairs to get to the fourth floor. He reached the apartment number he’d written down–427–and knocked on the door.

Jihoon was tired. He’d come back from a supposed “break,” sat through the most mind-numbing briefing he’d been in to date, completed a full reconnaissance mission, and helped Seungkwan get his love life back on track. So, he couldn’t be blamed for what happened next. The door opened to reveal a man, who was most decidedly not his brother, holding a spotless chef’s knife in his hand. Reacting to the threat posed by an armed person, Jihoon shot his hand out to grab the wrist of the man and twisted it, forcing his hand to drop the knife.

“Hey, what the-!” The man had his reply cut off when Jihoon yanked him forward, jutting his hip to lever the man onto his back. He then flipped him over his shoulder into the hall outside of the apartment. The resounding thud caused a commotion inside the apartment as well, but Jihoon was too busy holding the discarded knife to the man’s throat and questioning him to pay attention to that.

“Who are you and why are you in Yoongi’s apartment?” He growled, and his expression was that of calculated rage. The man he was currently straddling stared at the knife, terrified, and Jihoon pressed it a little closer. “Give me an answer.”

“I’m-,” the man began to answer, but at that moment Yoongi reached the doorway.

“Oh my god, Jihoon, what are you doing?” Yoongi screeched from behind him, but Jihoon didn’t remove the knife. “Jihoon, that’s my boyfriend, get off of him!”

That made him stop. His brain short-circuited for a moment, processing Yoongi’s words. Carefully, he removed the knife from the man’s throat and got off of him. Yoongi rushed forward to help his boyfriend up, fussing over the shallow, almost invisible cut the knife had left. It was all background noise to Jihoon at the moment. He was running through every conversation he’d had with Yoongi recently to see where he missed the boyfriend announcement. For some reason, his heart was constricting; he didn’t understand why.

“You have a boyfriend?” He repeated, dazed. “When-when did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me he’d be over? Yoongi, I could’ve fucking killed him, you know-,” he snapped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth together when the man looked over at him in confusion.

“You know, when Yoongi told me his brother was an agent for a time-traveling government program, I didn’t expect you to be so small.” The face behind the statement was innocent enough, curiosity shining in his eyes, but like any other time a stranger calls him short, Jihoon’s blood boiled. Yoongi interrupted him before he could speak and frighten his boyfriend more.

“How about we finish this inside,” he said, in a tone that didn’t allow any arguments. “I’ll try to explain everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOO I'M BACK  
> man i loved writing the flip scene, i have actual experience with that you know. it ended with a minor concussion and swollen/jammed index finger, but it was fun! yell at me for whatever in the comments!  
> can you guess who yoongi's boyfriend is?


	3. svt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SVT is a dance group in Brooklyn, New York, and quite well known. Soonyoung is a captain, and he shows his side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha writing in only one tense, who's she????? i don't know her.

  
“Ok guys, I know you’re tired, but let’s go once more from the start of the second chorus! We’ve got a little bit of inconsistency near the end when we’re doing the jump. The second row is jumping a little too early,” Soonyoung called out from his final position on the left, clapping his hands together to get everyone moving. Both Jeongguk and Yugyeom started complaining, saying that this was the 20th run through that day alone, but they were hushed by Hoseok.

“Soonyoung’s right, we need to get this down as soon as possible. The showcase is in a week, and we need to polish this dance to perfection.” The two of them scowled but got into positions nonetheless. Soonyoung shot a thankful smile towards Hoseok, who waved it off good-naturedly. “Don’t mention it, I noticed that too.”

“Ah, Hoseok, I knew there was a reason I named you co-captain.” Hoseok managed to look affronted.

“So it’s not because of my devilishly good moves? How dare you, Soonyoung. I will have to fight you to restore my honor,” he declared pompously, exaggerating his words with sweeping hand gestures. Jimin was struggled to control his laughter, and Junhui was doubled over next to Minghao from how hard he was shaking.

“Another dance battle, Hobi? I thought you learned your lesson from the last one,” Soonyoung teased.

“In your dreams, Soonyoungie,” Hoseok scoffed. They stared at each other for a few more moments before they gave in to the smiles that were threatening to crack their expressions.

“Didn’t the last battle end in a tie, though?” Bambam asked from where he stood in the center, timidly questioning why the more senior members were losing their minds. Chan was just as confused beside him, eyes flitting back and forth between Hoseok and Soonyoung as if terrified they would start fighting.

“It did,” Minghao offered drily, “but they always try to one-up each other anyway. Don’t worry, the last time they actually fought was two years ago, and they both came crying back to each other three hours later.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung grabbed his friend by his shoulders and shook him, wailing the whole time about how his image was being ruined. Hoseok was staring off into the distance, his soul gone from his body, and by now Jimin and Jeongguk were both on the floor. Yugyeom was watching gleefully as they wasted more and more time, cackling at the two captains’ discomfort. When Soonyoung finally gave up trying to save his tattered dignity, he glared at each one of his troupe members, so weakly that none of them felt the least bit intimidated, and finally, defeated as he was, motioned for them to get into positions.

“Come on guys, one more time. Then we’ll wrap it up.” As everyone else gave a chorus of agreements, Soonyoung glanced at Hoseok, who was still staring at the wall with that glazed look in his eyes. “Hobi, let’s go, front and center.”

“Huh?” Hoseok screwed his eyes shut, blinking to refocus himself. “Oh yeah, sorry I’ll get on it.”

Practice finished without another hitch. His dancers, despite how much they teased each other, knew exactly what they were doing. When they got to their problem areas, they followed the critiques that he and Hoseok had given without losing their flow, and Soonyoung was impressed by their performance. He let them go with a stern reminder that they needed to follow their exercises in this last week and to actually eat nutritious food.

“I know how you guys are, remember the time Hoseok and I actually came and checked what you ate?” Jeongguk, Yugyeom, and Bambam all somehow found their surroundings very interesting at that moment, avoiding their captains’ piercing glares. Minghao was concealing his amusement well, and Jimin was simply disappointed.

“Guk, I promised your mom I would take care of you, what am I going to tell her if you keep doing this?”

“So don’t tell her!” Jeongguk whined, sounding more and more childish with every passing second.

“I can’t do that! It’ll give me a guilty conscience!”

“Jimin, do I need to remind you of the hours you spent lusting over that random man that you spilled coffee on once? Your conscience can’t get any guiltier.” The wounded and offended look that Jimin wore was too much for Hoseok, who choked on a vicious cough that took over his body. Soonyoung took a look at the chaos that was happening and decided that he’d had enough of his troupe for today.

“Ok, I’m tired of all your bullshit, go home. But I’ll know if you try to screw me over!” He shouted at them, watching as they push and shove at each other in a playful manner as they gather their things together to leave. When most of them have filed out of the room, he turns to his co-captain. “Hoseok, we have our hands full with them.” His co-captain snorts.

“That’s an understatement. Think our hands are full, and we’re still trying to juggle on top of it while jumping on a pogo through a flaming hoop. That’s how far in over our heads we are.”

“It’s a good thing we love it anyway, isn’t it?” The noncommittal hum he receives is one that he interprets to be of agreement. “Anything you think we should go over before tomorrow?”

“Yeah, could you give me Chan’s number?”

“Oh, sure–,” he stops abruptly as Hoseok’s words process in his mind, and he turns to look at him with an incredulous look on his face. “You want Chan’s number. Sweet, innocent little Chan, who I raised on my back from the time he was eleven years old. You want his number.” Hoseok’s eyebrows rise to a height that Soonyoung would find comical. On any other day, when his self-proclaimed brother’s innocence wasn’t in danger.

“Is that a problem? I wanted to work with him on the spin move. He’s been having a little bit of trouble transitioning through that, and you and I both know that hip-hop is more my forte than it is yours.” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that you can see happening in slow motion, and Soonyoung was about two seconds away from actually fighting Hoseok when Chan peeks into the room to see what was taking them so long. Like a scissor had cut the tension between them, they relaxed, but Soonyoung kept an eye on Hoseok as he assured Chan that he was coming.

“I’ll think about it, Hobi,” he tells him sweetly, dripping with a menacing undertone. “How about I give you an answer tomorrow?” He leaves before he can get a response from his co-captain so that he could take shower before he and Chan left. In less than 15 minutes, they were walking out of the studio.

“Are we taking the subway today?” Chan asks when they’re on the street, and Soonyoung runs over the pros and cons of the different routes they can take.

“Nah, I was thinking of cutting through the park.” He pulls out his phone when they’ve entered the park and plays the video of their full choreo again, looking for more improvements. Chan looks over his shoulder and offers some comments about what he thinks could go smoother, steering Soonyoung away from people and keeping him on the path. Hoseok’s request came back to mind, and he turned to question Chan about it. Unfortunately, the moment he looked away from his phone and, by extension, the ground, he almost stumbled on a dog that ran right in front of him, and immediately afterward actually ran into who must’ve been its owner.

“I’m so sorry!” The owner said as he scrambled to help Soonyoung pick himself up. “My dog ran away from me, he doesn’t usually do that.”

“Aw, what a cutie!” Chan cooed behind them, and the owner of the dog stopped his wild gesturing when he saw that his dog was yapping at Chan. He was a tiny thing, only about the size of Chan’s forearm, and his hair was fluffed up, and although it made him seem a little more intimidating, Soonyoung couldn’t help but melt at the sight.

“Yeontan! Don’t you dare run away from me again!” The owner scolded the dog, Yeontan, and pulled him gently out of Chan’s hands and into his own.

“He’s adorable!” Chan was jumping in place, all the energy he’d lost at practice coming back full force once he’d held the puppy. The puppy’s owner returned his enthusiasm with a boxy grin.

“Isn’t he? My name’s Taehyung! I’m sorry if Yeontan bothered you, he’s not like this most of the time. He got excited all of a sudden and ran off, but you won’t do it again, will you Tannie?” Taehyung bopped Yeontan’s nose and got what Soonyoung would classify as an indignant yip in return. He tried not to let a laugh escape at how Taehyung spoke to Yeontan as if the puppy could understand what he was saying.

“I’m Soonyoung, and that’s my brother, Chan.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys! If you’d like to, Chan, you can play with him a bit longer. I don’t have anywhere I need to be anytime soon.”

“Ah, I’d love to, but I have classes soon.” His sorrow at not being able to stay and play with Yeontan was too much for Soonyoung. He needed to get the two of them out of there before he allowed Taehyung to take Chan away forever so that he would always be around Yeontan.

“Yeah, he’s right, we have to get going. It was nice meeting you, Taehyung! If we ever cross paths again, let’s exchange numbers.” He grabbed Chan’s hand as he started walking away.

“Sounds like a plan,” he calls out, setting Yeontan on the ground and waving before turning around to walk the other way. “Bye!”

When they turned back around, Chan still had his lips stuck in an adorable pout. Soonyoung rested an arm on Chan’s shoulder and pulled him closer in a side hug.

“It’s alright, you’ll see other cute dogs, too. And who knows, we could meet Taehyung again, and I did say if that happened, we’d definitely stay in touch.” Chan relaxed his face and exaggerated his exhale into a loud sigh, although he did straighten up from his slight slump and didn’t look so dejected. Soonyoung decided it was okay for him to ask another question. “How are you feeling about the street performance we’ve been practicing?”

“You say street performance like we’re gonna be dancing hip-hop,” Chan replies, side-eyeing his brother. When Soonyoung aims to hit him again, Chan ducks out of his grasp and runs ahead, glancing back every so often to see Soonyoung following closely behind. He slowed down at the end of the path they were running along and Soonyoung cuffed his head with a light hand when he arrived a few seconds later.

“What a brat. Well, fine, I’ll reword my sentence. How are you feeling about our contemporary performance that will take place on the streets?” He said, enjoying the miffed expression that curled across Chan’s face.

“I don’t like how you said that but I’m excited, you know?” He said while waving his arms around. “This is only for Junhui, Minghao, you, and I, and it’s gonna be awesome because we worked super hard on it. Our voices sound great!”

“They do, don’t they? What would you think about us entering it in a competition?” Chan starts bouncing on the balls of his feet again, a habit he always had when he became excited.

“Are we going to?”

“I was thinking of it, yeah. Only after the upcoming showcase, though. That way when everyone else is taking a short break, we can polish the choreography. I haven’t said anything to Junhui or Minghao yet; I was waiting to see what you would think.” Soonyoung nudged his brother to get him moving again, and they start walking out of the park in the direction of their apartment.

“It’ll be awesome! Oh, I was meaning to ask you, but could you give me Hoseok’s number?” Soonyoung whipped his head to look at Chan, who blinked and moved his back a little out of surprise. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked nervously when Soonyoung narrowed his eyes and examined him.

“Why do you need his number?” They stopped at an intersection and waited for the walking light to appear.

“I know you’re a captain too, but this piece has a lot of spins and hip-hop inspired elements, and Hoseok is more inclined to hip hop than you are. Your contemporary style doesn’t have as much experience with what I need help with?” He ended his explanation with a questioning tone, like he wasn’t sure he’d said the right thing. Soonyoung looked at him a little longer before turning and walking across the street, the white walking sign shining across from them. Chan hurried to catch up.

“Soonyoung? I’m sorry if I insulted you, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine, Channie. You didn’t insult my feelings, but we’ll talk about this later.” They walked the last three blocks in silence, interrupting the awkward tension only when Soonyoung asked Chan if he had the keys. They climbed the stairs to their apartment on the third floor, and when they got inside, Soonyoung dropped his bag against the wall and turned to Chan.

“What do you think of Hoseok?” His brother pinched his eyebrows together and tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean by that? He’s talented, and likable too, I don’t think anyone can stay mad at him very long.” He fidgeted in place, uncomfortable under the weight of Soonyoung’s eyes.

“That’s all you see him as?” He raised his eyebrow as he asked this question. It was terrifying how fast Soonyoung could go from bubbly and excitable to serious and straight-faced, Chan realized. Especially when he had no idea why it had happened.

“Soonyoung, what are you trying to point at?” Chan is still confused by why Soonyoung is being cryptic about the source of his anger, and he just wants to fix whatever he did wrong. Soonyoung is still trying to interrogate Chan about what he feels for Hoseok and getting frustrated as he gets nowhere. It’s Soonyoung who gives in and lets his front drop.

“I’m sorry, Channie, but you’ve never dated anyone before, and I want to make sure that neither of you gets hurt in case it doesn’t work out.”

“Wait, wait, what?” If Chan was confused earlier, now he was completely bewildered. “What does this have to do with me dating someone?”

“Oh, whoops,” Soonyoung said, clapping a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that part.”

“That’s not helping, Soonyoung!”

“I know it’s not! Just, hold on, I need to find a way to explain this.” He goes to sit down on the couch, and Chan follows him, having nothing better to do for the next hour before he needed to leave for his classes. “Ok, so, Hoseok already noticed that you needed help with the spin maneuvers, so he asked me for your number. I was cautious of that, because you know how Hoseok is.”

“The gayest man alive?” Chan asked, making his annoyance clear. “Soonyoung, that’s the least serious issue we have. I’m biromantic and you’re pan.”

“Yes, I know, and he’s bi by the way, but what I meant was that. He really does like you, Channie. This is the most dedication I’ve seen from him for someone, and I was his friend even before he met Seulgi. It hurt him a lot when they broke up, even though it was on good terms. And I know you respect him a lot, but I also know how hesitant you are when it comes to loving someone. Remember how long you took to open up to me?”

“It took you a year to wheedle your way into my stoic heart, even with bribery,” Chan replied, trying to lighten the mood that had fallen over them. It worked a little, because Soonyoung chuckled at the memory.

“I wasted so much money on pastries before finding out you didn’t like them much. But that’s my point. You’re my brother, he’s one of my best friends. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

“I understand why you were so serious earlier,” Chan finally said after thinking for a while. “You didn’t want to get his hopes up. I don’t know if I can love him yet, Soonyoung, because even though I respect him a lot, I don’t know if that translates to love. But if he’s that dedicated to at least trying and seeing how we turn out, then I want to give him a chance.”

“If you’re sure you want to try,” Soonyoung says, wringing his hands together, “I’ll give you his number. I want to know every detail, alright?” He pulls his phone and motions for Chan to do the same. As he puts in a new contact on Chan’s phone, the younger boy can’t help but smile.

“Thank you for looking out for me, Soonyoung.”

“No need to thank me. You’re my brother now, of course I’m going to take care of you.” He ruffles Chan’s hair as he stood up from the couch, handing him back his phone as he walked towards his room. “I’m going to get ready for work, make sure you leave on time for class, alright?”

“Yeah, I will,” he called out absentmindedly, staring at his phone. When Soonyoung was sure that he was engrossed in his own thoughts, he pulled his phone out again and opened his chat with Hoseok to let him know that he had given Chan his number. The only reply he received was a series of sparkly hearts. He rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, changing out of his casual clothes and into the regulation white shirt and black dress pants of the hotel he worked at part-time. He walked back out, saw no change in Chan’s posture from before, and sighed to himself.

“Don’t come back to late tomorrow,” he called out while putting his shoes on, “we have to head to the studio at 8 tomorrow to run through the choreo again. BamBam said Lisa would do our makeup for us, and we have to pick up the outfits.” He grabbed the keys from where they hung on the wall and put them in his pocket. “Not to mention, Borough Hall is halfway across Brooklyn.”

“Will do,” Chan replied, eyes unmoving from the screen. Just before he closed the door, Soonyoung grimaced and turned around again.

“And if you’re going to text him, just do it, Channie. You’re an adult.” The door closed and locked before Chan could yell a retort at him. Unfazed, he headed to work and ignored the noises he could hear from apartment 112 on his way out. If there was a murder, the police would find out soon enough.

The subway ride wasn’t as bad as he thought it would have been, and it was easy to find a seat to sit in, which was something he couldn’t do often. On the trip to his stop, Soonyoung continued to text Hoseok about both their plans for tomorrow and his ongoing struggle with Chan.

 **Jhoe**  
did u actually tell him i liked him?????

  
**Hoeshi**  
well i got him to give you a chance didn’t i?

  
**Jhoe**  
bite me

  
**Hoeshi**  
not my type :P

  
**Jhoe**  
dont test me  >>:(((

Soonyoung snorted and tucked his phone back into his pocket and watched the bleak tunnel walls rush by. If he let himself, he could drift off, ignore his reality and lose his mind to the thoughts that whirled through it. But that would lead him to a bad place, so he forcefully brought himself back to his body. And good thing he did, because his stop was about to arrive.

His part-time waiter job wasn’t terrible by any means. He got paid a good wage, got benefits, and it helped support what being a dancer couldn’t cover. The Hilton Brooklyn New York was a nice hotel, but none of this changed the fact that he hated his job. It was because of dancing not being able to cover all the bills that he had to take on this job, and that reason alone made him bitter.

Just as he expected, his shift ended up being lackluster, and it was with great relief that he clocked out and exited the restaurant on the ground floor. The bustle of the crowd pushed him towards the subway, and he went with it gladly. His legs felt like jelly from how much he’d been walking today, and he almost didn’t have enough energy to tease Hoseok and Chan. The key word being almost, because he was always down for drama. He opened his messages while he waited for the train and saw a long list of texts from Chan.

 **Dino**  
SOONYOUNG  
SOONYOUNG GOD DAMN IT WHERE ARE YOU  
ASSFHGOGERJFEWBEJ I NEED YOUR EXPERTISE HOSEOK TEXTED ME WHAT DO I DO  
I LEFT HIM ON READ IS THAT BAD  
FUCK YOU’RE AT WORK AREN’T YOU  
ok i texted him back, nice and casual

He reopened his chat with Hoseok and saw another block of text.

 **Jhoe**  
i’m updating u from beyond the grave right now  
chan is so fucking cute  
i have diabetes

  
**Hoeshi**  
lmao what did he send you

  
**Jhoe**  
he sent me a simple hi  
but he added yellow hearts at the end  
god i’m gay

  
**Hoeshi**  
may the lord save your thirsty soul  
what else did you talk about

  
**Jhoe**  
i  
may have derailed the convo  
by asking abt  
the hearts  
n he got so flustered  
i could feel it from the screen

  
**Hoeshi**  
I’M CHOKING ABEFWOJD  
HE GETS SO BLUSHY WHEN GIRLS CALL HIM CUTE  
HOW DID HE EVEN REACT TO YOU  
I WISH I DIDN’T HAVE WORK  
I COULD’VE WATCHED THIS IN REAL TIME  
wait why the fuck was he texting you when he had classes

  
**Jhoe**  
uhhhhhhh,,,,,  
well in my defense  
i didn’t know he had class

  
**Hoeshi**  
i’m going to kill him  
say your goodbyes now because you’re about to lose the love of your life

  
**Jhoe**  
WAIT PLS DON’T KILL HIM  
I HAVEN’T EVEN TAKEN HIM ON A DATE YET  
SOONYOUNG

The last three texts went unseen by Soonyoung, who had already moved back to his chat with Chan.

 **Hoshi**  
hey you piece of shit  
why did you skip class

  
**Dino**  
wait waht  
where did you hear that

  
**Hoshi**  
not the point  
answer me

  
**Dino**  
i have zero (0) clue what you’re talking about  
i’m literally in class right now

  
**Hoshi**  
then why the fuck are you texting hoseok during class

  
**Dino**  
suddenly i can’t read, i don’t know

  
**Hoshi**  
DON’T TRY TO MEME YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS  
CHAN I SWEAR TO GOD

  
**Dino**  
OK OK I’M TURNING MY PHONE OFF AND ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION  
I’M SORRY  
PLEASE DON’T KILL HOSEOK

  
**Hoshi**  
GET OFF YOUR PHONE

  
**Dino**  
OK OK

The online signal next to Chan’s name turned from green to red, so he knew he had actually turned his phone off. The fact that he had feared Soonyoung getting mad at Hoseok was funny, if he was being honest, and made the miserable subway ride home better. Even when he got to the apartment and only had the willpower to make a sandwich before collapsing in bed, the smile he had on his face didn’t waver. Except for when he realized that they’d run out of tomatoes, because he hated eating sandwiches without them, and had to face the reality that the sandwich was the only thing he could make at the moment.

He doesn’t hear Chan come back that night, but when he wakes up in the morning to his alarm blaring in his ear, his younger brother’s snores are easily heard through both of their partially closed doors. Grumbling as he shut off the incessant beeping, Soonyoung lay under his warm blanket for a solid ten minutes before he found the strength to force himself out of bed to begin his day. Which began with having to drag Chan out of his bed after taking a quick shower because he refused to get up on his own. After shoving him into the bathroom, Soonyoung went to the kitchen to fry some eggs and make toast for breakfast. Chan stumbled out of the bathroom ten minutes later and served himself two eggs and a piece of toast before sitting down and letting his head fall on the table top.

“You better finish eating fast,” Soonyoung said as he glanced over his shoulder, “Junhui and Minghao are already at the studio.”

“That’s because they’re both freaks of nature and actually like getting up at 5 in the morning,” is the muffled reply he gets. Soonyoung rolls his eyes at the dramatics that Chan was displaying and put his eggs on the toast he’d made. He turned off the stove and put the pan aside to cool down before sitting at the table with Chan.

“Come on, eat. BamBam texted me that Lisa will be over at 9, and it’s 8 right now. If we finish by 8:15, we can be at the studio with our outfits before her.” Chan groaned but lifted his head up as per Soonyoung’s request so that they could finish eating. Soonyoung was out of his seat first, which was no surprise since he had always been faster to gain full functionality in the mornings, while Chan was still plodding through his last egg. Soonyoung got tired of it, shoved the last bit of egg in his brother’s mouth, and proceeded to ignore the complaints that came from him. He could barely be understood anyways, given that his cheeks were bulging with food.

“Chan, didn’t Mom teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”

“Shut up, Soonyoung, Mom also taught you not to be rude to me but that’s exactly what you’re being,” he shoots back after he swallows the food. They bickered with each other playfully until the got to the station, where they stared at the subway map, trying to figure out how to get to the boutique that had their outfits. After staring at the map for almost five minutes with no results, Chan sighed in annoyance and pulled him onto the red line that would take them to Times Square.

“We have no idea how to get there, so Times Square is our best bet,” he offers when Soonyoung protests against his impulsive decision. Although Soonyoung wouldn’t admit that he had no better ideas, that didn’t stop him from muttering about his displeasure with the situation under his breath the whole subway ride. Chan rolled his eyes but otherwise didn’t comment on it.

Times Square was as difficult to navigate as always. The moment they stepped out onto the streets, Soonyoung felt the pull of the crowd dragging him away. With some difficulty, he and Chan shouldered through the crowd to get to the store entrances. They wandered aimlessly for a few minutes since neither of them had gone with Junhui and Minghao when the outfits were ordered. Chan pulled his arm suddenly and pointed to a store across the street that had the sign “Diamond Boutique” hanging above the entrance. The store had a very minimalistic personality, the main colors of it being a snowy white and pastel baby blue.

“They probably made the store those colors because the boutique has diamond in the name,” Soonyoung said in a bored tone, the kind he used when he wanted to state the obvious. Chan snorted and punched his arm in retaliation and started to walk through the crowd of people to get to the boutique. His brother followed, rubbing his arm and complaining about a soreness he didn’t actually feel. Admittedly, he liked the aesthetic of the store, since it gave him a calmer vibe than the more vibrant stores that lined the Square.

The rest of their task was easily completed. The workers were nice and didn’t hassle them over the pickup, and the payment had already been taken care of, so they were able to leave only a few minutes later. Soonyoung’s first thought about the outfits was that they were pure, in the manner that priests are thought to be. It matched their concept well – a love that waited forever for a time that wouldn't come, but waiting nonetheless. He liked them, even if they were looser than their normal clothes. Minghao had even bought a second set in black in case they ever felt like changing it up.

Somehow, they made it back to the studio in Brooklyn at 8:58, and when they burst through the doors, the other troupe members glanced up in surprise. They took in the light film of sweat on their brows and immediately lost interest, turning back to their own tasks. BamBam came over to them and took the bag that had their outfits.

“Lisa has already arrived, but she’s setting up right now. Junhui is going first, so I’m going to hurry and get him the outfits. You guys will be fine to come by after you’ve recovered, right?” He asked hopefully, clearly not wanting to wait on them. Soonyoung gave him a quick thumbs up and a mumbled, “sure,” a which BamBam turned and sprinted away. Chan glared at his figure until it disappeared down a new hall, but that glare morphed into fondness when he saw Hoseok walking towards them. Soonyoung noticed the change in his expression and subtly nudged Chan forward.

“I’m gonna go get ready for makeup, come by when you’re done flirting.” He runs off to the soundtrack of Chan’s whispered curses, and in his mind, he’s cackling gleefully to himself. He heads to the dressing room in the studio where he assumes Junhui and Minghao already are. Sure enough, when he enters, Junhui is already being prepped by a girl who introduces herself as Lisa before returning to Junhui’s eyeshadow. Minghao wasn’t in the room, but that probably meant he was putting on the outfit, which Junhui was already in. He waited patiently for Minghao to return so that he could use the changing room.

“Alright, Jun, you’re done!” Lisa put a final setting spray on Junhui’s makeup and stepped out of the way so that he could look himself over. At that moment, Minghao walked into the room, and upon seeing Junhui’s reflection in the mirror, he dramatically threw a hand over his heart and clutched it tightly, screwing his eyes shut in mock pain.

“Man down, man down!” Soonyoung cried, playing along with Minghao and running to his side. “Jun, hide your face!” Junhui’s face fell, the small smile he had turning downcast.

“Do I really look that bad?” He asked sadly, almost reaching up to touch his face. When Minghao heard him question his beauty, though, his eyes shot open and he rocketed to his feet.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, Wen Junhui, and you look amazing with or without makeup,” he explained, dead-serious as he reached out to hold Junhui’s hands between his own. “I was just pretending that your beauty was too much for me to handle, but I promise that you look stunning right now, and I would kiss you, except I would ruin the hard work that Lisa spent thirty minutes on.” Junhui looked like he would cry if Minghao said anything else to him, and Soonyoung and Lisa were nodding their heads vigorously to accent Minghao’s mini-speech. Soonyoung let the moment last a little longer before he pretended to wipe a tear away and clapped his hands.

“That’s was so sweet, I got diabetes, but you’re up, The8.” He looked at Junhui quickly and noticed that his neck was bare. “Jun, where did your choker go?” Minghao’s eyes widened, almost comically, and he swung his head towards Soonyoung and gaped at him.

He whispered, “he has a choker?” Soonyoung grinned evilly and nodded, watching the blush on Junhui’s face deepen in color and Minghao’s mouth as he mumbled prayers for strength in Mandarin. They would have a fun time later–he would bet ten whole dollars on it–but for now, he had to get them ready. He pulled Junhui out of Minghao’s grip and let Lisa gently guide him to the chair. BamBam came out of the room, took in the general disorder of the room, and quickly ducked out again after telling Soonyoung to come back whenever for his outfit.

“You have to wear the choker, Jun.” His tone left no room for argument, but Junhui was determined to try.

“Hoshi, you know I can’t–”

“–Shut up, anyone who so much as glances at you will spontaneously combust. Besides, things between you and Minghao will get pretty heated if you listen to me.” Junhui grimaces at the obvious sexual undertone in Soonyoung’s statement and actually pulls his head away when the captain wiggles his eyebrows at him. Soonyoung gestures for him to lean down so that he could wrap the white fabric around his neck and attach it in the back. When he was satisfied with his work, he let go of Junhui’s shoulders and let him stand back up. “Alright, that’ll work great. The contour brings out your jawline, and the choker is thick so it’ll accent your neck. I’m going to go change now, and I better see that confidence of yours make a comeback.”

Junhui laughed. “Haven’t I always been this shy?”

“Not when it comes to your appearance or your dancing.” Soonyoung threw over his shoulder as he walked away. He was confident Junhui would be able to pull himself together in time before their first performance at 12. He took his outfit from BamBam and spent a few minutes in front of the mirror in the changing room, holding the outfit in front of him and twisting it around as if that would give him a better idea of how to put it on. Eventually, he figured that the flowing pieces of fabric didn’t have to be put on a certain way, so he slipped it on despite the confusion of which side was the front. He spent the next fifteen minutes talking to BamBam about the group choreography that they were practicing yesterday while waiting for Lisa to finish Minghao’s makeup. The conversation got derailed quickly, though, because Soonyoung’s mind was ever curious and couldn’t stand fragmented ideas.

“How did you get to know Lisa?” He asked BamBam, missing how he tensed up the slightest bit and his eyes widening a fraction. There was a new glint in his eyes, which Soonyoung took to be interest.

“Uh, I met her at uni. We had the same general lit course in freshman year, got talking, and stayed friends.” The nod Soonyoung gave him dispelled some of the stiffness in his shoulders, and Soonyoung was already moving on to his next topic. Lisa called him from the other room, and with a rushed goodbye, Soonyoung was gone.

“So, Hoshi,” she began after seating Soonyoung, “how are you feeling about your performance?”

“I’m excited! Not nervous, cause after a certain point you get used to that, but this is something we haven’t tried before.” He makes sure to keep his mouth movements to a minimum so that Lisa doesn’t get messed up. She hums to show that she was listening as she continued to clean his face and started applying the primer. “I’m thankful that you could help us out!”

“It’s no big deal, BamBam and I have some history together. He asked me for a favor and I was happy to help.” The way she said it seemed odd, but Soonyoung didn’t think anything of it. They keep quiet the rest of the time, with the only conversation being when Lisa asks him to move his head a certain way. When he opens his eyes, he’s pleasantly surprised by the red eyeshadow and subtle eyeliner that Lisa had used on him.

“I won’t be around for the actual performance,” she tells him apologetically, “so I was extra careful when I used the setting powder and spray. If something goes wrong, ask BamBam to call me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much! I’ll send Dino in, and once he’s ready, you can leave.” Soonyoung sends Chan in to get prepared, and he’s proud of how confident his younger brother looked in their outfit. He’d grown a lot since the shy kid he was when Soonyoung’s parents first adopted him. For the next thirty minutes, Soonyoung went through a checklist of all the equipment they needed and made sure it was all accounted for. He chatted with Hoseok for a bit on how they would get there, and they agreed that they didn’t have enough items to require a car, so the subway would have to do. The time flew by, and when Chan came out of the room, the grayish blue dye of his hair matching the eyeshadow that Lisa had put on him, Soonyoung gathered everyone from the troupe together.

“I don’t want any of you getting lost like that time we went to Philadelphia,” he announced, looking right at Jeongguk, Yugyeom, and Jimin, the oldest of which tried to protest that it wasn’t his fault that they’d boarded the wrong train. “I don’t care what your reason was, Jimin, the fact of the matter is I no longer trust any of you on your own. So we’re splitting into two groups. Junhui, Minghao, Chan, and I are all in one group because we’re actually performing. The rest of you are under Hoseok’s charge and need to carry equipment. You guys need to catch the train before us so that you have more time to set up.” After confirming that everyone did indeed understand what was happening, Soonyoung let Hoseok take charge and let himself relax. It wouldn’t do him any good to be tensed up before the performance.

At 11:30, Hoseok’s group had already left, and the four of them were doing relaxed choreos to stretch. They warmed up separately and regrouped to catch the 11:50 train, and they managed to arrive on time with no difficulty. Hoseok makes a last minute check of the cameras, speakers, and lighting, and they begin.

This choreo is their collective love child, a mixture of everything they love about dancing and their own styles. Junhui’s flowing grace, Soonyoung’s sharp charisma, Chan’s energy, and Minghao’s sharpness, all pulled together by each other to create something more. To make something that they fell in love with, practiced for hours to perfect to the point where any one of them could do it in their sleep. It’s smooth, it’s precise, and Soonyoung’s the conductor that led them here. He sees the awe in the eyes of those that pass by, in those who chose to stay and watch them, in their members who had never seen them do this dance before. It’s exhilarating, knowing that this is because of them. It’s everything he had dreamed of when he aspired to be a dancer.

The song finishes, and Soonyoung remains in their final position on the ground a while after the last note disappears into the air. His breathes are heavy, but he’s not straining, so he takes it as a sign that his endurance had increased over the past few weeks. There’s a lot of applause, and some people offer them money, but each one of them refuses, explaining that this was simply a performance that they decided to do for fun. Jeongguk was congratulating Chan, Hoseok was trying to keep his pride from shining too brightly on his face as he talked to Junhui, and he and Minghao watched it all with a quiet satisfaction. The kind that came with a performance well executed.

About four shows later, Soonyoung noticed that their outfits were starting to get dirty. They’d filmed the dance all four times, so there was plenty of material to work with for a video. He told the rest of the members that this would be the last performance for them, and Hoseok got the camera ready for the final take.

Soonyoung started like he always did, his movements unwavering as he danced through the first verse. But then he caught the eye of one man in the crowd. He wasn’t very tall, but there was something about the way he stood that commanded attention, the way his eyes tracked every one of the moves Soonyoung made. He smirked, deciding that this performance would become a stage for him to show off. If he was elegant before, now he was a hurricane, tamed only be the wind of the song he danced to. Odd things about the man jumped out at him. He wore a black turtleneck and had dyed his hair a dark red but the roots were starting to show. The legs of his pants were just a little too short, but it matched the rest of him well. Soonyoung noticed that the man’s eyes never left him, rarely strayed to Junhui, Minghao, or Chan, and pride filled him to know that he had captured the attention of a stranger so completely. He lost sight of him as he lay down in their ending pose, a serene expression on his face. When he got up, his smile fell. That was their best performance yet, and Soonyoung wanted to be excited with the others. Except the stranger was gone.

“Hoseok, did you see a short man with red hair in the crowd?”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“He had a red plaid blazer and wore a black turtleneck.”

Hoseok frowned. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t paying attention to the crowd. You can ask the others, they might have seen him.”

None of the others had seen the man. Soonyoung even asked some of the spectators but turned up empty-handed. Chan tried to tell him to forget, and Soonyoung smiled and told him he would try. But when he went to bed that night, the exhaustion of the performance catching up to him, the only thing he could think about was a man he would never see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this took ages lmao i'm sorry to make you want to long. i hope this longer than usual chapter made up for it a little.


	4. revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon has a run-in that gives him some startling information. More than once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow?? ren is that you?? updating collecting stars after sitting down and being quiet for 5 months?? YES  
> sorry for the delay guys, i haven't really been in the mood for writing collecting stars recently, not to mention major writer's block, but i powered through! i hope this isn't too much of a disappointment of an update ;;;

The undeniable tension in the air was entirely Jihoon’s fault, and he knew this. Yoongi, ever the equal in his level of social awkwardness, didn’t really know how to diffuse the atmosphere. His response to which was to disappear into the kitchen with the promise of refreshments.

 

“How he ever became known as cold-blooded is beyond me,” he muttered under his breath. The other man snorted unintentionally, but immediately afterward they’re back in an uncomfortable silence waiting for Yoongi. When his brother came back with a tray with three glasses of water and saw them sitting on the edges of their seats on opposite armchairs, he groaned out loud.

 

“You two couldn’t have introduced yourselves?” he asked while setting the tray down and letting them each grab a glass.

 

“Well, it’s kind of hard to introduce yourself to someone who you just flipped in the hallway,” Jihoon shot back with little menace. Yoongi winced at the reminder of their situation and sighed defeatedly.

 

“Alright, fine. Jihoon, this is my boyfriend Jimin. Jimin, this is the short stack I always tell you stories about.” Jihoon held up a hand to stop him, a glare boring into Yoongi’s face.

 

“Ok, first of all, I resent being called a short stack. Do it again and you won’t have the breath to say anything at all. Secondly,” he turned to Jimin, “what has he said about me.” Jimin still looked a little fearful of Jihoon, but talking about Yoongi seemed to take a little pressure off of him. Jihoon noticed with little surprise that Jimin’s shoulders seemed to relax.

 

“I mean, it was mostly stories about the stuff you used to do when you were younger…” Both Yoongi and Jihoon relaxed. “Except the story about when you accidentally got involved in a love affair in 1547 and nearly got guillotined.” Jihoon stiffened and turned his head slowly to look at Yoongi.

 

“I hate you so much I wouldn’t hesitate to gut you here and now.”

 

“And I wouldn’t blame you,” Yoongi replied with a defeated nod. He turned back to Jimin with a betrayed expression, and all Jimin did was smile serenely back at him. “I can’t even be mad that you did that because that situation really was -,” Yoongi didn’t get to finish his sentence. A pillow from the couch was launched at his face, muffling the rest of his words, and Yoongi fell over in a dramatic rendition of being shot. It made Jimin giggle, and Jihoon supposed that he could get used to this new person. He was playful when he got over his shyness and awkward beginning, and Jihoon respected someone who wasn’t afraid to mess around with Yoongi. Everyone else seemed to think Yoongi would bite their head off, but Jihoon knew all too well that his brother’s glare was only for show. He perfected it when they were younger so that he wouldn’t have to fight people; they would be too intimidated to realize that Yoongi was too soft of a person to ever actually act on his angry expressions. It was a fact Jihoon liked to use against him often.

 

“So, Jimin,” Jihoon started casually when they’d settled back down, returning the pillow to its original spot. “What do you do? My brother hasn’t even mentioned you to me.”

 

“In my defense,” Yoongi interrupted before Jimin could react, “you were gone for a long time and when we started dating, you weren’t around. And then you immediately went on a mission when you came back, so I literally didn’t have time to tell you.”

 

“And even though those are still good points, it’s still your fault.” Jimin nodded along supportively with Jihoon, and Yoongi watched their interaction with narrowed eyes.

 

“I’m starting to regret letting you two get to know each other. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

 

“A true tragedy of the most epic proportions. Now, Jimin?”

 

“Well, I’m a dancer for a troupe based in Brooklyn. We mostly perform in competitions and showcases, but sometimes we do street performances for fun. Those are usually done in smaller groups while the rest of us help out setting it all up.” Jihoon took in the information and wondered how Yoongi ever got to know of Jimin.

 

“How did you meet Yoongi then? As far as I know, he would rather stab his eye with a fork than get caught outside at a dance showcase.”

 

“He actually knew our co-captain, Hobi, and he pulled in a favor to get Yoongi to produce a song for us. It’s actually the one that we’re gonna be using at the upcoming showcase, so I’m more excited for this one than I was for the others. In case you didn’t know, Yoongi is really bad at hiding his stares and flirting.” Jihoon watched excitedly as Yoongi’s face turned red like an apple, but he felt a little strange as he watched his brother bury his face into Jimin’s shoulder with a whine. He didn’t understand what was wrong when he watched the couple interact, but maybe it had something to do with his restlessness. He stood up rather abruptly and asked if he should put the tray and empty glasses back in the kitchen, escaping the lovestruck giggles for a few moments to recuperate. He hated the monotony that time traveling had taken on, so maybe it was about time he found something else to replace his priority. When he came back, Jimin and Yoongi were next to each other, unlike before when they had all been on separate seats, and Jimin’s arm was draped loosely around Yoongi’s shoulder. He ignored that face as he sat back down in his original spot.

 

“Yoongi definitely used to be a producer. How are you now, Yoongles?” he asked with a smirk.

 

“Oh my god, Yoongles? That’s -”

 

“- Shut up! My producing is fine, thank you very much. I should be asking you that question, Mister I-Haven’t-Touched-A-Keyboard-In-Years.” Jihoon bristled a little, although he couldn’t deny the truth of Yoongi’s words.

 

“My producing is just fine. How much more different could it be?”

 

“Music trends change, Hoonie. You’re not gonna be able to make something appealing unless you know the direction music has already taken.”

 

“You sound like a philosopher.”

 

“Wait!” Jimin broke up their banter with a question. “Jihoon, you’re a producer too?” Jihoon rubbed his neck sheepishly when Jimin pointed it out.

 

“Uh, yeah, I am. Or was, I guess. Yoongi’s right, I haven’t had any time to actually make a song in forever, and I’m in the middle of a mission, so I still don’t have time.”

 

“Ah, that’s too bad. I think our captain was looking for another producer to collaborate with.”

 

“He’s posted demos and other collabs under his producing name, Woozi,” Yoongi tacked on. “His works are older, but not by much. Maybe a year or two.”

 

“I can tell him to check them out,” Jimin said with a smile. “In the meantime, you guys should come to our showcase. It’s in five days, 6 pm sharp at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.”

 

Yoongi pointed at Jihoon. “I don’t care if you have a mission. You’re gonna be there.” Jihoon made a face and scowled. “Don’t give me that look.” Jimin stifled yet another giggle as he stood up. He nudged Yoongi to tell him that he had to leave to make sure someone named Jeongguk actually ate a proper meal, and Jihoon was, in all honesty, a little sad to see him go.

 

“I approve of him,” Jihoon said when they were the only two inside. Yoongi gave him an odd look. “Well, someone from our family has to approve of him. And since I’m the only one here, I’m saying he’s good.”

 

“Your opinion is kind of worthless, but ok I guess.” Jihoon didn’t take it personally, especially when Yoongi ordered from his favorite take-out place without asking as a silent measure of his thanks.

 

“You need a place to stay, don’t you?” Yoongi asked while they were waiting to eat. “You’re lucky I have a spare bedroom and no roommate.”

 

Jihoon was up early the next morning at 6:30 am, all thanks to a phone call from Jeonghan. One that he had not been expecting nor was excited for.

 

“Listen,” he said instead of giving a proper greeting, “I don’t care if you’re my boss. If there isn’t a good reason for calling me this early, then I’m hanging up and coming by later.” Jeonghan snorted from the other end of the line.

 

“Wow, that’s a lot of respect. Trust me, Jihoon, I hate being awake this early as much as you do, but we’ve got a new reading. Taehyung is on his way and I called in Mark to help us.”

 

“Another conference?” Jihoon groaned, and the confirmation Jeonghan gave him was enough to make him fall limply back onto the bed. “Fine, I’m coming. Please make sure there’s coffee,” he pleaded before ending the call and throwing his arm across the bed, almost throwing his phone across the room with it. He caught it with the edge of his fingers just in time, but the adrenaline that ran through his body because of it was enough to make anymore rest impossible for him, and with a huff, he pushed himself out of bed and prepared himself for the day and a possible jump. There was no telling with Jeonghan what could result from the conference.

 

“Why the fuck are you so loud?” Yoongi grumbled from his room, and Jihoon threw his balled up t-shirt at him from the doorway as he changed.

 

“I’m not being loud, you’re just a light sleeper. Don’t wait on me, I have no idea how long Jeonghan’s gonna keep me there.” Jihoon called as he walked away, pulling a clean shirt on.

 

“Not like I would’ve anyway. Grab a spare key when you walk out.” Yoongi stuffed his head back into the pillow and tried to sleep longer. Jihoon snatched a keyring from the hook and grabbed an apple on his way out, taking no particular care while shoving his feet in his shoes. If Taehyung could find time around Yeontan to make an early meeting, Jihoon sure as hell didn’t have an excuse. He stifled a yawn while exiting the apartment, and he randomly bumped into another tenant. He was too tired to say anything other than a quick apology and greeting, and it sounded like the other person was in a hurry by the way they rushed their own apology and ran to the staircase. He only caught sight of dark gray dyed hair and a backpack, so he assumed it was some poor university student who hadn’t woken up early enough. He’d never been to university, but he had heard enough horror stories about it to feel pity for the ones who got stuck with a class in the early parts of the morning. While the student ran down the stairs, Jihoon took the much less taxing option of the elevator.

 

When he got to the ground floor, the student was nowhere to be seen. Either the elevator had been faster than he thought or the student was already gone. Jihoon wondered why he cared at all, but the harder he thought about the short look he’d gotten of the boy’s features, the more he felt like he’d seen him before. With a shrug, he attempted to dismiss the memory altogether. He had more important things to worry about after all.

 

He took the subway again, once again amazed by how little the people who rode it cared about what went on around them. There was a couple arguing loudly, but no one even looked at them. The streets weren’t as packed when he got back above ground as they were during the middle of the day like yesterday, but it wasn’t by much. He entered CRT and was struck by how eerily quiet it was in the absence of almost all of its employees. He had a vague idea of how to make it to the conference room, but most of his hopes rested on someone else finding and taking pity on him to lead him there. But he was never that lucky, and Jihoon was extremely lost in a record-breaking two minutes. He pulled out his phone with no small amount of reluctance and dialed Jeonghan’s number. He picked after the third ring.

 

“Hey Jeonghan, I’m lost.”

 

“What do you mean you’re lost? There are signs!”

 

“What signs? There aren’t any signs,” Jihoon complained, searching the surrounding area for the elusive signs that Jeonghan was going on about.

 

“Look, go back to the lobby and look up. There’s a hanging object with arrows on it.”

 

“Can’t you just send someone to get me, I don’t know my way around this facility.” He started walking back anyway, keeping Jeonghan on the line in case he needed to ask something else. When he got to the lobby, he whispered a quiet “Oh.”

 

“You saw it, right? Great, I expect you here in five minutes tops.” The phone beeped in his hand and Jihoon pulled it away from his ear with pursed lips. He had no idea how he’d managed to miss that sign the first time he’d come in considering it was blue with pink letters and arrows, but now wasn’t the time for him to worry about his observation skills. He followed the arrow leading to the conference room and opened every door in the area until he found the one with Taehyung, Mark, and Jeonghan inside. Jeonghan was the only one who looked irritated; Mark and Taehyung were trying to keep their laughter in.

 

“We heard you opening each door to find us,” Taehyung explained around his hand, and Jihoon faked a scowl and slumped into his chair with a huff.

 

“No coffee either, I see.”

 

“Can we start the meeting?” Mark asked.

 

“With pleasure,” Jeonghan sniffed, finally picking up the clicker to start the hurried presentation. “Seungkwan pulled together the profiles for us.” Three photocopied profiles appeared on the screen, and Jihoon quickly scanned the names. Jennie, Jisoo, Hyuna, and Lisa. The only ones that were familiar to him were Lisa and Jennie, and that was because he’d been the one to fill out part of their profiles. Jeonghan clicked to the next slide lazily. “We found some information on Hyuna. Turns out we’ve had a few run-ins with her already, so it’s not surprising that she’s out and about making chaos on the regular.”

 

“I’m here because some analytical things I need to discuss with you guys. There were some odd energy spikes during your jumps, and while we’re here, I’d like to run some tests. Jaebum got called back to work through a few problems with the watch so Jinyoung will be with us this time.” Jihoon made a face when he heard Jinyoung’s name.

 

“Are you sure you want Jinyoung there?”

 

“We need someone who’s knowledgeable about the watches and how to use them in jumps, so even though I would prefer that Jaebum were with us, Jinyoung is just as capable, even if he doesn’t like it much.”

 

“How long will this be?” Taehyung asked, fiddling with a pen he’d pulled out of seemingly nowhere but that Jihoon knew logically came out of his pocket.

 

“I have no idea,” Mark admitted, offering Taehyung an apologetic smile when the agent groaned out loud. “We have a lot of control factors to look at and test, and the variables have a wide range of possibilities.”

 

“I love jump sickness,” Jihoon deadpanned, not looking forward to the numbing sensation that would inevitably make his stomach churn. Jeonghan gave them both a glare.

 

“Just accept it already, yeesh,” he reprimanded. “What I wanted to finish with was that this is our current standpoint; we know some members of the operation and we have a history with one of them. In the future, you’ll have to pay more attention to codes they might use to communicate. If you get close enough to listen to them, of course,” he added at the end. “Let’s get the experiments started then. Mark, lead the way.” Mark took them to the basement, much like Jaebum had yesterday, and directed them to the portal.

 

“You won’t be jumping too far forward or backward, so don’t worry about outfits. Jinyoung should be here soon.”

 

“I’m already here,” a voice called out from behind a cubicle divider, startling all four of them. Jinyoung wheeled himself out on his chair to stare at them, prominent bags under his eyes, and took a sip from his coffee cup. Jihoon looked at it longingly, although he thought it looked cold. Mark recovered enough to give the man a worried look.

 

“Jinyoung, how long have you been here?”

 

“Time is meaningless and my apartment is entirely too boring, so I just slept here. I woke up when you tried to get in from the back and set off the security alarms. I thought it was hilarious how the security guard treated you until Jeonghan came by to clear your name.” Jinyoung relayed the events with the most unamused smile that Jihoon wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. Taehyung made the decision for him when he snorted and gave Mark a side glance.

 

“Really the sharpest tool in the shed, aren’t you?” Mark sputtered indignantly while a graceful smile came over Jeonghan’s face and Jihoon eyed Jinyoung.

 

“So, are we gonna start now or what? I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”

 

“Ok, yeah.” Mark started pulling out data sheets from his briefcase. Jihoon hadn’t realized he was carrying it. “I’m gonna make you guys go in turns because jumps aren’t picky about who does them. It’ll give you a break while making sure my data isn’t too screwed. Jinyoung, could you get some of the jump point calculations ready while I tell them what I’m gonna be doing?” Jinyoung only makes a sound somewhere near a grunt and a sigh before turning back to his cubicle to get to work. “Thank you. Ok, so the deal is that I’m gonna be looking for energy spikes, disturbances during the jump, and some weird things you see or feel during the jumps.” He motioned them over to the jump portal in its closet. “The problem with the energy spikes showed up for each one of you, so I’m concerned about that. You all have the same watch models, right?” He directed that question to Jeonghan.

 

“They were all distributed to us at the same time, so yes. We all have the same model.”

 

“Four years old and it still treats us just fine,” Taehyung chimed, pulling out his watch and patting it affectionately. “I named mine V because it always brings me victory over my enemies.” Mark frowned at that tidbit of knowledge, looking even more confused when Jeonghan and Jihoon nodded at the man sagely.

 

“Remember the old watches? They always gave us the worst jumps, all bumpy and flimsy.” Jihoon hated thinking about those trips. He’d had more than his fair share of unintended and forced jumps because the first one he’d tried dropped him the middle of the ocean, forget which time period it had been in.

 

Mark snapped his fingers impatiently at the three of them. “Great story time, back to the important stuff. I haven’t seen a spike like this from your watches ever before, thus the need for this experiment. Now, Jihoon, I’ll have you go first. Jinyoung, do you have one set of calculations done?” Wordlessly, he held up a sheet with the final answer circled in red pen. Mark grabbed it and then stared at it. Jihoon and Jeonghan shared a look, wondering what was going on. More confusion came over when Mark gave it back to Jinyoung. “I don’t know how to put that in.”

 

Jinyoung glared at him. “This is the exact reason you should have waited for Jaebum,” he scolded and turned to Jihoon. “Give me your watch.” Jihoon placed it in his hand and watched Jinyoung, with no small amount of uncertainty, program the watch to take him a few hours forward. When it got handed back to him, Jihoon didn’t feel the same sense of security as when Jaebum had done it. “The calculations are perfect, but Jaebum is better than me with every technical aspect. Don’t panic if something goes wrong, just wait for a few minutes before you jump back. I’ve made sure the watch knows to bring you back to the point that you disappeared.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“Whenever you’re ready, Jihoon!” Mark called from his spot leaning against the wall. Jihoon pressed the button on top and watched the portal rip open, the same orange glow from yesterday spilling past the blackness.

 

“Hey Mark, write down ‘weird orange light during initial jump,’” Jihoon said, not bothering to explain himself before walking in.

 

Jihoon reappeared in a whole new location, which on its own would be nothing to worry about. The walls were wooden, the older building vibe already making itself known, but the electrical lights, various props, and heavy ropes hanging from hook and beam made him think of the backstage of a theater. It was the fact that he saw a boy gaping at his sudden appearance that led him to conclude that something had gone wrong. That conclusion was further proven when the boy, someone he had never seen before, knew his name.

 

“Jihoon? How are you here?” The incredulous expression on the boy’s face immediately turned into worry and fear, and he glanced back as if he was running from something before grabbing Jihoon’s hand and pulling him into a nearby storage room. His silver hair fell into his face as he glanced back to make sure they were alone before closing the door fully.

 

“How do you know me?” Jihoon asked before the boy could start again. “I know we must have met, but I’m not the same person you just saw.” The confusion in the other’s eyes cleared up at that.

 

“Oh, you’re a time traveler. Then I hope you’ll take care of Soonyoung.”

 

“I have no clue who that is.”

 

“Right, let me start from the beginning of what you need to know. About twenty minutes ago, Jimin introduced you to us. We got to know each other, and things were fine. Soonyoung, our dance captain, pulled you aside, I have no clue why, and you guys disappeared into the wings. Lisa disappeared after you, and I needed her for something, so when I followed her I saw her push both of you into some random time period.” The boy used his arms to accentuate his story, waving them to describe the various events. Jihoon’s mind swirled with the information. If the boy wasn’t lying to him, which was unlikely, then he would soon have to go through a jump with a civilian. And knowing that Jimin would be there, paired with the knowledge that this Soonyoung person was a dancer, this would happen after the showcase in four days now. But Lisa? Was she the same person he’d heard Jennie talking to? A more important question popped into his head as the boy waited for his reaction, almost like he was desperate for him to say he believed him.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“You can call me BamBam. My full name isn’t easy for most people.” A suspiciously reasonable cover.

 

“Alright BamBam, I need to ask a favor. You know Yoongi, right?” He waited for BamBam to nod to confirm that. “I need you to tell him what you told me. He’ll understand.” BamBam looked skeptical, but he nodded again.

 

“Wonderful. And why do you look so scared?” BamBam stilled, and Jihoon knew he’d stumbled on something. “Don’t worry about answering now, but I’ll find you for an answer later.” He glanced at his watch, guessing that he was okay to open a jump portal now. “I guess I’ll have to thank Jinyoung. See you later, BamBam.” Jihoon opened the portal in that room itself, uncaring of whether BamBam followed him. He had the suspicion that he wouldn’t. That proved true when he got pulled back into the lab alone. The disorientation he’d felt during his recon mission yesterday came back, and he caught himself on the wall before he could fall into the door half ajar. Jeonghan glanced at him, a bit concerned, but Jihoon waved him off. Mark was analyzing the readings he’d gotten from Jihoon’s jumps, and Taehyung was slumped at a desk. There was a distinct lack of a theorist.

 

“Where’s Jinyoung?” Taehyung pointed to the break room, not lifting his head in the slightest.

 

“He’s pouring himself another cup of coffee.”

 

“I need to give him a big thank you. It landed me in the perfect place.” He walked over to Jeonghan and schooled his light-hearted expression into a more serious one. “I’m gonna need to talk to you later.”

 

“Urgent?”

 

“Very. I have news, and I’m almost positive it’s connected to the case.” Jinyoung came out of the break room at that moment, stirring his steaming coffee and trying not to fall asleep on his feet.

 

“Jinyoung, how much sleep did you even get?”

 

“Shut up already, Mark, it’s getting on my nerves. Jeonghan, let me program your watch. I think I learned from Jihoon’s how to work it.” Jeonghan smiled easily and reassured Jinyoung that even if it wasn’t perfect, he would be fine. The theorist merely rolled his eyes before handing the watch back.

 

“Go whenever,” Mark said distractedly, entirely focused on the graphs and datasets he’d collected. While Jeonghan collected his set of data, Jihoon sat around, without a doubt the most bored person in the room. Jinyoung and Mark were focused on their own calculations and Taehyung was trying to sleep. Jihoon didn’t really want to think about how all of his plans would practically get set on fire in four days either, so he pulled out his phone and set around to mindlessly scroll on the internet. A much better use of his time would probably be to come up with a plan to catch the rogues, but that was what Jeonghan and Seungcheol were paid to do. He had one job and one job only, which was to execute their plans, and he did his job well. There wasn’t any need to change things up now.

 

Jeonghan came back quickly, and the results seemed to agitate Mark even more. He had started mumbling under his breath as he kept shuffling his pages, and even Jinyoung’s sleep deprived apathy was beginning to take notice. It took three minutes to wake Taehyung up, and Jihoon admired his ability to sleep so deeply. He and Yoongi had obviously had that gene skip over them. When Taehyung had gone through, yawning all the while in an attempt to wake himself, Jeonghan pulled him a little bit away from the other two.

 

“Seokjin is already trying to trace the jumps that happened during our missions, but he’s already warned us that he might not be able to find anything worthwhile. What have you got?”

 

“I accidentally got sent a little further into the future than planned and I found out some things. In a few days, Yoongi’s boyfriend’s troupe has a showcase that I’m going to be at. While I’m there, I’m gonna meet someone named Soonyoung, and when he pulls me aside, someone named Lisa is going to send both of us into a random time period. I think that Lisa is the same one that I heard Jennie talking to. I also have a contact of someone who might be able to give me more details. The important part is that you need to get me back as soon as possible because I’ll have a civilian with me in volatile conditions.”

 

Jeonghan blinked owlishly. “Well, that’s a lot to take in.”

 

“Again, all you have to worry about is getting Soonyoung and me back. I’ll handle the contact and -,”

 

“- What are you two talking about? Who’s Soonyoung?” Jihoon stifled a scream with his hand when Taehyung’s voice spoke beside them. He definitely hadn’t seen him approach.

 

“It’s nothing, Jihoon’s just worrying his date with Soonyoung. He’s a dancer,” Jeonghan covered smoothly, “and Jihoon’s worried about how everything will run for their date after his showcase in a few days. Obviously, he came to me because of what an amazingly wise person I am.” Jihoon was grateful that Jeonghan didn’t let Taehyung know about their real objective, but he didn’t necessarily agree with his statement about being wise. He also didn’t like the new light that came into Taehyung’s eyes.

 

“Oh? A boyfriend? Jihoon, you never said anything.” The shit-eating grin on Taehyung’s face didn’t let up even as Jihoon scowled at him and pushed him aside.

 

“This is precisely why I didn’t tell you,” he said, keeping up the cover Jeonghan had helpfully created. “Mark! Can we go?”

 

“Yeah, go ahead,” he mumbled as he shoved papers into files and then into his briefcase. “I have to get back to TRM and run this through with Vernon. These results are unlike anything we already have on file. Jinyoung, you better go home and get some rest,” Mark warned as he rushed out.

 

“Don’t worry, Mark, I’ll make sure he does!” Jeonghan shouted after him.

 

“Yeontan must miss me, so I’ll be leaving. Good luck planning that date, Jihoonie.” Taehyung snickered and dodged the kick Jihoon aimed at him.

 

“I’ll make sure Seokjin is ready,” Jeonghan whispered to Jihoon as they crossed paths.

 

“I hope I’m ready,” Jihoon mumbled, more to himself than to Jeonghan. The time read 11:54, and Jihoon sighed as he contemplated eating at a nearby café or heading back to Yoongi’s apartment. He remembered Yoongi’s fruit basket and decided that maybe he wouldn’t choose to voluntarily go hungry today. He headed toward the café.

 

He regretted that.

**Author's Note:**

> comments force me to remember that this story exists and that i love it. please consider supporting me through this!  
> i do not have a proper update schedule, primarily because school exists and i'm in 3 college level classes and 1 advanced class, and i'm also on our speech/debate team. i write whenever i get the chance, and so an update will happen when i get time and feel like it's good enough to post.


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